It seemed Doxy bites were old hat to the young Healer, and Natty supposed it wasn't surprising to learn that dealing with them was a Day One sort of lesson for Healers. Doxies were hardly uncommon, after all.

It did indeed sting, but Natty was thirty-eight, working class, and widowed — he was used to pain. He didn't really feel up to explaining to Healer Brighton that the real pain came from knowing he'd caused a bother by getting into this situation. (Though something told him she'd empathise if he did explain.)

"So what attracted you to the profession?" Natty asked with mild interest, a bit of chatter as he watched her unroll the gauze. "Lifelong calling?"