"I'm curious the back story of how a tried criminal of High Reaches managed to become a wherhandler."
It took everything she had in her, that special brand of strength she'd created and nurtured over the Turns in particular, to keep herself from looking at him or the side of her hand. She knew without having to do that, that the makeup she'd found to cover it up had somehow worn off. It had never done that before, even after repeated washings, but she suspected that with how she'd scrubbed at her hands earlier, it had been scratched away, and now that it had... Fuck, she was stupid for going without her gloves, but she found they got in the way of tending to patients in the infirmary, and it made it easier to work there period. She continued to work, though it was clear that his words were starting to affect her; her fingers were quivering slightly and her jaw was settling into a firm, tight line. And still, she said nothing a all.
Did she reached for a scalpel first, or try to drug him with fellis before taking off...
For Turns she'd been so careful about everything. Then she'd finally felt safe enough to let her guard down, only to have this happen. Of course it would be this man to see through the layers, to notice the tattoo on her hand, and to know exactly what it meant. She wanted to rip the flesh from her hand and toss it in a fire, and she didn't even care if it caused her to bleed dry. To between with everything she'd learned the last couple of Turns. She was about to lose everything she had gained since leaving the North, including Sarsk. Either this man was going to send her back to High Reaches to face her mother, or he was going to kill her for whatever reward her mother had on her head still, or there would be words exchanged with the Weyrleaders.
The only option would be to leave. To find some way to escape him before he could leave the infirmary, and pack her things. She could take Sarsk with her. There would be felines to deal with, that would be a problem, but if they headed for the coast, perhaps there'd be a chance to avoid them.
Her fingers had gone from quivering, to full on shaking, so she set the needle and thread down for a moment and pushed away from the table to stand. Going over to the cabinets, she got up on the step stool and started to riffle through the cabinets, grabbing more bandages than she needed, but it distracted her, though not enough. "So how long will I have after I'm finished with you before you go telling the Weyrleaders? Or did she send you after me?" Just in case, not knowing what she would face when she turned around again, she grabbed a scalpel from one of the shelves and slide it in her sleeve.