Wendy was sitting in the clinic of sorts within the headquarters of the Resistance, scanning through the limited supplies that were available to her. The "clinic" was in a small store room, dimly lit by a candle sitting on a wooden shelf attached to the grimy wall. A few boxes of matches had been tossed almost haphazardly on a shelf below the candle, under a forgotten roll of bandages. There were three narrow cots pushed up against the wall, covered in thin, ragged blankets. An old beaten-up sofa had somehow made its way into the clinic, and it had been placed under the shelves that were affixed to the wall. A thin door with creaky hinges and a busted lock was next to the sofa. There was another door next to the first cot, leading to a tiny room that reminded Wendy of a closet. That was where she slept and stored her few belongings. The remainder of the space was taken up by two rickety wooden tables that looked like they would fall apart any day now, covered with a hodgepodge of medical supplies. 

Wendy spent her days healing whoever needed to be healed, and she appreciated how people seemed to know what injuries were severe enough to garner her attention. It always irked her just the slightest bit when someone came to her with a single bruise or a thin, superficial cut. Although Wendy never downright rejected anyone, she could not help feeling just a tad irritated when things like that happened. She preferred to reserve her energy for people with more...well, [i] serious [/i] injuries. Then she would be more than happy to help. 

The Headquarters seemed to be waking up for another day of remaining in hiding, a few clatters and clangs permeating through the air into the clinic. Wendy, as always, had been up early. Since she rarely ventured above ground, due to the threat of the Technopath and his Crusaders coupled with her inability to defend herself with her powers, Wendy usually only had a vague idea of what time of day it was. She could gauge if it was morning, afternoon, or evening, but other than that it was all guesswork. She made sure that she got a decent amount of sleep in order to keep her energy levels fairly high so she would be able to heal people if they needed it, but Wendy was sometimes needed for late-night healing sessions which could last hours at a time. Those screwed up her sleep schedule. 

Wendy got up from the stool she had been perched on and stretched, yawning. She reasoned that she should be able to get a bite to eat soon, seeing as more people were starting to move around and get ready for the coming day. No one had come in with any healing that they needed yet, so Wendy figured that now would be a good time to get some food into her system. Just as her mind formulated the thought, someone knocked lightly on the door. Wendy walked over quickly and twisted the door knob, yanking the door open with more force than necessary because it sometimes got stuck against the door frame. The hinges squealed in protest, and Wendy looked up to find Jeff with a large cut on his shoulder, blood streaming from the wound and dripping onto the floor. Wendy smiled warmly at him in greeting-Jeff was one of the supers who consistently required her help.

"What did you get yourself into this time?" Wendy asked idly, her voice slightly accented despite the fact she had left China over ten years ago. Turning around, Wendy's eyes flitted through the room before they landed on a metal canister the size of a bucket that one would use to build a sand castle with at the beach. She beckoned for Jeff to come inside and sit down before unscrewing the cap on the canister to reveal some clean water, at least as clean as it could get down in the sewers. She dipped a small hand towel into the water, preparing to mop up some of the blood running from Jeff's wound before healing it.