Jeanne: Surgeon Things

He listened to the sound of his own boots clicking on the stones in the atrium and then echoing in the corridor, fully aware of the pitter-patter sound behind him that did not belong to him. At Jason's door he turned and looked down at Cu, who scrabbled along behind him - perhaps with the hopes of Druce having more food. "Clear out, dog!" he said, pushing it back with his foot as he slid into the chamber. He heard its whining outside and the sound of its body plopping down in the doorway, and he wondered how long before the creature would grow tired of waiting.

Jason had not shown himself yet. Druce blew a long, thoughtful breath through his nose and wandered the room, glancing over papers and diagrams on the table and idly straightening them with two fingers. Many of them were technical, the sort of things Druce would expect a surgeon to own, but several histories lay open on top of the loose sheets, as well. A small, gleaming dagger, with a very clean and smooth blade, sat half-unsheathed nearby; it was no surgery knife - it was too delicately fashioned and lovely - and he wondered what it was for and where it had come from.

Leaving the tumbled havoc of the desk, Druce moved to the little window on the far side of the wall, across from Jason's bed, to wait for his coming. Outside he once again heard Cu's whine.