While he watched the doctor, Verin made a mental note only to make literal statements around the Nitrozian. His statement haven’t been sarcastic, per se, but there had been an element of untruth that the doctor apparently hadn’t picked up on. Verin’s knowledge of poison was limited, but his time with Inoadar had cemented nigh on all agents will cause a reaction to a concoction, for good or for bad. Though not a medical man, or a herbalist, he knew that the painkiller he had been given was, in a higher dosage, a poison, and a sweetening agent might have made it ineffective. “The injury was not intended.” He stated the obvious at Amolina returned with a painful looking implement, “And I also hope that it doesn’t happen again, for my own sake, rather than yours.” Verin’s tone was mild and his expression impassive, yet there was a subtle, uncontrolled element of bite in his voice, to counter the doctor’s own apparent disdain. He wondered whether it would have actually been worth going to the Healing Hand, rather than here; the elder of the Rush brothers was not one for over-dramatisation or a needless display of emotions, but he appreciated – nay, expected – a good bedside manner when he went for medical treatment. As the antiseptic made contact with the open flesh, the blond winced, a hiss escaping his lips. Now glad that he had accepted the painkiller, he prayed that the medicine will have taken full affect by the time the doctor came to pushing the needle through his skin. The man nodded once as Doctor Nitrozian informed him of the immanent stitching and he did his best to calm himself, using the same technique he employed before Hypnotising someone. His eyes closed for a moment and his breathing noticeably slowed whilst his good hand gripped the side of the bench he was on, taking the strain of the muscles, rather than allowing his other hand to tense up. He opened his eyes again, however, preferring to watch and know when the pain was about to hit, rather than be unprepared. The first was the worst and he grunted a little in response to the pain, but it could have been a lot worse. “So why the change in job?” He turned to Amolina for conversation, hoping that, if he got her talking for long enough, he could distract himself a little from the needle which was, effectively, creating more holes in his skin for the purpose of sewing up a larger one. “Change of scenery? Kelvics not offering stimulating enough conversation?” Verin didn’t think much of the creatures, knowing they were fast to age and slow to learn, with little other value than their loyalty, if bonded, unless one desired a pet. Of what he knew of the Kelvic Research Institute, the creatures kept there were even less intellectually capable; their purpose was mostly carnal, so why would the handlers bother to teach them anything? “No wish to continue with performing?” There was a small hint of disappointment in his voice at that, having always admired the girl’s talent at her craft. He didn’t acknowledge Valerius’ comment about returning, other than a brief nod of his head, and he raised his arm as requested, but kept his attention on Amolina. |