Hajin rolled up his sleeve on the clinic bench, exposing the injury Vella still refused to pronounce fully healed.
Hajin sat quietly on a wide treatment bench, his right sleeve rolled neatly above his scarred shoulder.
Down the hallway, the unlocked bedroom remained visible through the open doorway where the iron latch was removed.
The faint scent of dried mint, mountain cedar, and boiled willow bark drifted through the air from the cooling kettle.
Outside the open window, the cool autumn breeze rustled through the pine branches along the valley ridge.
Vella pressed two fingertips along the delicate pathway lines running from his wrist toward his collarbone.
The protected child watched from the bedroom threshold, keeping one hand safely anchored against Loccy's dark coat.
Loccy sat quietly on the edge of her straw mattress, resting her splinted arms comfortably in her lap.
