#celentia

Take dictation, Quillbert.

My detachment to the hospital is a permanent position now. While I am wary of the quick trust and responsibility placed upon one such as myself by the good Doctor, I shall endeavor to maintain composure and poise.

Control is what life is about, after all. Time management is the control of how long your actions take; financial management is the control of your assets. Poise is the control of your posture, your words, your actions.

I am always in control. Hm, strike that last line, Quillbert.

If my steps lead me here, so be it. I am not adverse to the idea of working in a clinic. After all, it will be easy to take account of the comings and goings of our people.

I have already had my first ‘walk-in’, so to speak. A young woman was presented to me with a poorly taken care of head contusion paired with extensive hematoma. She was so feverish that she had lost control of her steps and fainted, per the pandaran Ai that brought her to me.

A marking and communicator behind her ear confirms her as a Winter Wolf, per the Pandaran. I know very little of what this means, aside from they at one point guarded the hospital. Upon further investigation, there is a certain woman among them that dark whispers tell me I should acquaint myself with.

We will continue to monitor the patient.

End dictation, Quillbert.

Sandrendor had pretty much frozen in place, stripped to the waist of his armor, a pair of pins sticking out the side of his mouth: a tiny smudged set of hand prints in white powder stuck to the side of his face, neck and shoulder. Heavy burnished, engraved greaves and leg plate starkly contrasting the cartoonish pastel green raptor apron and bright stained baby blanket tossed over the opposite shoulder making what he was guessing an amusing sight. Adding to the moment, Shorand’s eldest son likewise turned his tiny bulbous baby head to look at the pretty blond and, after a few seconds of awkward silence having walked in on the man who generally exuded masculinity in such a … compromised position in changing the twins’ diapers: little Tarenor decided to toss his fist in her direction, open and close his chubby little hands at her chest and promptly request..

" Booooob!? "

Needless to say though he hadn’t blushed up til point, Sand was quickly reddening knowing that was not mistranslated coming out of the mouth of babe at five months of age. The sound along with a responding toss of one of the tiny leather teething dragonhawk plushies Anyuli had made the boys bouncing off his shoulder from the padded crib set up temporarily nearby put him back in motion; setting Tarenor’s bare butt into the fresh nappy. ” Ah.. ” his eyes searched for whatever it was she might be looking for in glances; trying to ignore the fact that he was basically covered in baby powder and mommy pastels and yes, changing diapers: or for that matter that the eldest of the kids had mostly identified her chest as source of nutrients as he took the pins one at a time from his mouth to secure the diaper at the sides and tug their Lt. Commander’s tiny namesake into his favorite springpaw jumper.  ” Centurion Starshatter should be on his way back from Fairbreeze soon.. I’ll help you find whatever you’re looking for as I can.. “

“Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they're also what tear you apart.” - Haruki Murakami (Kafka on the Shore)