“Until next time,” he says, mildly, because it’s a small organisation and relatively small set of towers and so they’re bound to rub elbows eventually and run into each other again. And the woman scurries off, and he duly turns back to poking around the infirmary and waiting for one of the local healers to show up; a little impatient, but resisting the urge to dig around too much. It’d be the quickest route to piss off a fellow professional by rearranging their workspace, even if they are probably medieval as hell and into, well, leeches or something.

And in the meantime that’s one more name and face of one more Riftwatch colleague, committed to memory, jotted down for later: Gela Baynrac.