[h3]Madara[/h3]

	The seamstess and surgeon halted ever so briefly on the doorstep as she took in any changes in the interior of the station since she departed when the bell called and her eyes adjusted to the comparatively dim conditions inside - a process that was significantly quicker for palanters than humans, and noticeably quicker for half-palanters.
	Palanters had no vision in complete darkness, and they couldn't see nearly as clearly as nightwalkers on moonless, overcast nights - but their winged forms especially seemed built for nocturnality (or perhaps crepuscularity), so a nice, full moon with a clear sky might as well have been comparable to a sunny day for a human but for the deepest of shadows, and actual sunny days tended to register as rather [i]annoyingly [/i]bright, though not enough so to send them reeling unless they were unfortunate enough do look directly into sun or its clear reflection. It might have also explained, though, why no palanter in existence had found exquisite beauty in the sparkling of fields of snow on a crisp winter day or the glimmer of the sea during high noon. Just a hunch, that. 
	The dead had been moved - into the basement the human knight had briefly visited, she presumed - and there were a couple townsfolk in the room who had not been there before, presumably to aid in whichever small ways they could. She and Irah had already done what they were able for the ones with the head injury and slashed shoulder - they'd be fine with only very minimal loss of function, at least physically, given time and no further trauma - which left the three others who were bedbound, the Fadewatcher with injured arm who was still standing, and the one of Vela's men with an injured leg, who was yet to come along. 

	"Fortunately, I can assure you no further harm came to baroness Vela Bor or those serving at her residence, and her manor is once more safe for its inhabitants" she addressed the room before anyone could inquire, her tone surprisingly soft and reassuring even in spite of being projected enough to carry towards the back of the station. "Quintin has also returned from scouting, and my unlikely companions appear to be discussing going to liberate Bren as I speak - they should be arriving here shortly to further formulate their plan. I might need to depart along them, but until then, I'll do what I can."
	There was a brief pause, during which she slightly bowed her head once more, and strode into the station, only briefly halting if she were to pass one of the comparatively well off Fadewatchers, and touching her fingertips to his shoulder to catch his attention. "Several of baroness Bor's guests seem to have been less fortunate; two remain, unharmed," she noted under her breath. It was these men's business to protect the place, fair if they had a more detailed overview. "The manor was overrun with wraiths and ghouls, though they were dispatched swiftly." 
	She didn't linger long enough to allow for a reply. 

	She returned to the side of the man with broken jaw and missing fingers - it was him she had left her things with when the alarms called, and his injuries were subjectively the most debilitating. Intrinsically, she considered hand-injures quite unfortunate indeed. It was what she used most in her trade - either one of her trades, really - and the same could be said for many other professions. And for humans, it would be borderline permanent. The And a jaw injury? To be barely able to speak, or eat...
	"Let me," she asked - nay, [i]informed[/i] - him, carefully picking up his hand and observing the injury. "I could try to restore your hand - though only if I had the actual fingers, she murmured - you can hold up or wave your other hand," It had been long enough that it was stretching it, but the weather was not too warm, and she had both her own medicine [i]and[/i] the vial Deo'Irah had let her borrow.