Noah was assured by Elann’s matter-of-fact speaking. He had been clinging to the hope that once his stitches were out he would only continue to get better. The hope was what made him even walk with as much determination as he had shown in the past few days when it did come time for him to walk. To his own surprise he managed to trek the distance between the camp despite his discomfort, driven onward by the promise of a clean body and a clean body was what he got. With no more caked -on sweat and dirt on his skin he felt leagues better, his mood lighter since the weight was no longer on his skin. Another one of his freedoms was taken away by his injury: being able to fly and bathe whenever he pleased.

At him stating his physiological discomfort Elann stood before him, moving her chilly hands over his heated being. The coolness on his head did feel good, he felt the heat from his head temporarily defuse and then be slowly replaced as it fought against her icy hands to regain his temperature, a temperature that was normal for the Kelvic. Noah felt just as hot as she usually felt him to be, though she might not have known he ran hotter than the average man simply because of his avian nature, the core temperature being several degrees hotter than a human’s.

Patiently he looked at her, peering past her arm and the hand above his brows for her diagnosis. She reminded him of his mother in that instance and how she would take his temperature in the same way, comparing it with her own. It was one of the first indicators to say he was an avian like she, how he seemingly operated with a body heat that would kill a normal human child.

“You look nice,” he commented idly, taking the moment to observe her features as she took his temperature.