"Alright," he left it hanging in the space between them and moved back to go around the work bench toward the front of the store. He had wipe whatever look it was off his features and find Mrs. Potts with some sort of neutral expression. Thankfully she was right where he expected her to be in the small office just off the shop floor. Gently he knocked on the door frame. "Mrs. Potts? Miss Thompsett took a little spill on her way into the greenhouse just as I was leaving and I think she's injured her wrist. I'm not entirely sure what to do about it, can you take care of it?" Alvin had only become a pro in taking care of burns in the aftermath of his accident; broken or sprained or otherwise injured was not his area of expertise, as it was.