Sera found Iven asleep in the clinic chair with a pear seed stuck to his sleeve.
She removed it, set it on the table, and made enough noise with a metal basin to bring him awake. He sat upright, reached for a tool that was not there, and narrowly avoided knocking the basin onto the floor.
“Good reflexes,” she said.
“They were better before the basin.”
“You’re in my chair.”
“I thought it was the patients’ chair.”
“It is. Are you a patient?”
He considered his wet boots, the scrape along his wrist, and the ache in his legs. “I’m attempting to be unobtrusive.”
