Stahl isn't back for but a day and a half before he realizes that Nel isn't in her classroom, and that someone else is standing in for her. On asking if she's sick, he learns that she's been injured on a mission from the Church, the details of which he doesn't stick around for because he's making his way as quickly as possible without outright running to get to the infirmary. A few months ago, he'd been there with a fractured wrist, and now Nel is there.
He's half breathless as he promises not to disrupt the quiet needed for others to relax and heal. And then he sees her. Propped up in bed with her arm in a sling and looking like she's taken one hell of a beating. Concern draws his brows together, and he moves to her bedside, awkwardly looking and debating whether to sit on the edge of the bed or a chair he'd have to ask to borrow.
After a moment, he decides to just stay standing. "I heard you were here from one of your students," he says, unsure of what to do with his hands. "Are you feeling alright? I can't believe I have to go back home for a bit and my friends are getting hurt." Pressing his lips together, he sinks down to sit on the edge of the bed, trying not to jostle her. "Hopefully you're recovering well."
She's had her fair share of visitors, but there's one she certainly doesn't expect to see- Stahl, whose face is nothing but welcome... but she blinks up at him with a blank look for a few moments, almost as if her mind has yet to catch up to the fact that he's here. It's a pleasant surprise, truly, and as Nel's foggy consciousness finally processes the occasion, she can do nothing but give him a sheepish smile-- there's truth to the fact that she feels guilty that he has to see her in such a state. "I am hurt by no fault of your own, Stahl," Her voice comes out low, meant to soothe by the lilt of her tone as he takes a seat on the edge of her bed. "As for recovery, I am doing just fine. I heal faster than most; it will not be an issue for too much longer." It's disarming, almost nerve-wracking that so many have seen her in an injured state. Were this still the circumstances of her youth, it would be immediately used against her-- to be unable to bring your all to bear simply meant that you were unfit to survive. In a way, that persists on the field of battle. Some things never change. "I am.. glad to see you, truthfully. I had wondered if you were well during your travels, though I did not have much time to dwell on it before the Church provided us with our orders." Ruby eyes settle on the expression on his face, softened and tempered by her regret evidence in the way her stoic demeanor falters. "Enough of myself. The story is short: I made a mistake, and simply paid for it-- there is not much to say aside from that." That is a lie, from beginning to end. She knows it, and she hopes it's not obvious in the way that her gaze avoids his own. It's not so simple to explain the moment of her death in its entirety. "Did you at least enjoy your time returning home?"
