That Hollow Prayer - (Day 5 - Morning)

Dorian was talking much more than necessary, pointing here and there, filling the silence where it needn't be. It took all her mettle to quietly follow his direction, for the benefit of the boy who barely winced beneath the triad's healing hands. She felt a burning sensation in her stomach, while Yeva worked beside her. The inside of her cheek bled against her furious jaw.

With abrupt motions, Yeva stripped off her gloves. “It was long night,” she said without preamble. “I am go to bed now.” Her eyes flashed at Lyen as the word “bed” escaped her lips. “Please to clean up, Seester. Thank you,” she said as her gloves landed on the bed. “Doktor?” the widow turned in the doorway, “May I have speak with you?”

“Ah’ll be there in just a minute,” Adler nodded as he watched Lyen paint the fresh Rheumone onto the growing muscle of Gill’s calf. “Nice work, Sistah. Ah’ll be back shortly."

And with that the pair were gone. Her chin rose to the ceiling as she shook her head. With a steadying breath, Lyen focused on applying the gel to the wound. "For a moment I thought..." she mumbled, a long strand of hair falling into her view.

"Gill, I'm just finishing up. But after this, how about I bring you some breakfast, hmm?" She wasn't sure how long Adler would be, but she didn't delay. After the freshly applied Rheumone shone cleanly, Lyen carefully bandaged Gill's leg, like Dorian had shown her.

Maybe the gun-slinging dentist wasn't interested in learning to pray, after all. Perhaps it was all a show. Perhaps it was just a matter of time until she saw the face of Dorian Adler that 'took his succor where and when he could.' But on that dark night when they'd prayed for the safety of this very boy and his sister, she'd believed his shadowed brown eyes. It was his prerogative of course, whether or not to follow the Way. She simply felt like she might be a fool. Of the many crew aboard, Dorian was quickly becoming a close friend. She'd treasured those few moments that bore them on their way to Marisol, and then on their search for Gill and Haddie.

Losing Jacy, losing Marisol; the nun was beginning to realize how attached she'd grown to the Lunar Veil. To connection in the physical reality. To home.

Absently, Lyen tidied up, placing the soiled bandages and gloves in the waste bin. The brush to apply the Rheumone would be cleaned and sterilized before its next application. When that was complete, the nun sunk into Yeva's chair to await the medic. Dorian's things were neatly arranged about the cabin, but her hands stayed firmly in her lap. She tasted pennies, but she returned Gill's timid smile, tongue probing the wound in on the inside of her cheek.

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