Week 11, Saturday, 11/15 -- Rowan Academy Infirmary

[rowan_staff]

((OOC: This follows this thread.))

Lady Jilena opens the door of the Infirmary, turning on the lights.

She opens the door that separates the waiting area from the rest of the building, gesturing to Peri and Mikal. "You two, follow me -- the rest of you, wait here."

Comments

[boggan]

"But he's my hus--" Freida breaks off sharply, biting her lip. She nods her head, giving in. She may be in a fighting mood, but not over this. Spindle's all that matters now.

[boggan]

((OOC: God, how I love that Boggan's definition of their relationship. Betrothed, married--what the difference? ;} ))

[rowan_staff]

The nurse frowns slightly as she catches Freida's bitten-off protest. "Would you like to be with him?" she asks in a gentler tone.

[dame_peri]

Peri is about to cut in when Lady Jilena invites Frieda; she nods, heading into the infirmary with Spin and Mikal, subdued for the moment.

[piskie_elle]

Elle, worried about Spindle, followed behind the group. Staying back she watches the group talk around the infirmary, not having any claim to be there, she sits down and waits for news.

[miko_aya]

Jarred out of her own worry by the sight of Elle's, Aya puts a tentative but gentle hand on the piskey's shoulder. "I hope he's going to be all right," she says with a tremulous smile.

[piskie_elle]

"Me too." Sighing, Elle runs a hand though her hair. "At least we got him here. I just want to know what Travis was thinking..." With that Elle trails off. "Poor Mikal..."

[rowan_staff]

The uneasy quiet in the waiting room is broken by the sound of a car pulling up. Through the window, a battered Volvo can be seen pulling into the nearby parking lot.

Moments later, a rangy middle-aged man, his chestnut-brown hair and beard liberally streaked with gray, is opening the door to the Infirmary. He's dressed in a simple button-down shirt and well-worn khakis. He carries a familiar-looking black bag in one hand.

Under faerie sight, he is revealed as a satyr, his leg pelt a shade darker than his hair and his horns curving impressively back over the top of his head.

"I'm Dr. Copoulos -- where's the patient?" he inquires of the gathered students in the waiting room. His voice is rich and mellow and soothing.