[centre][b][color=fff200][h1]Niesha[/h1][/color][/b]
[img]http://s4.scoopwhoop.com/anj/notasking/612391177.jpg[/img][/centre]
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[centre][b]location:[/b] Newman, infirmary[/centre]

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Niesha didn't particularly enjoy being challenged, not did she care for her requests to be taken as demands. [color=fff200]"I'm very aware that this is your place, sir, and apologize if my requests, my knowledge and pleas are considered demands, however I cannot change your perception, but let me make this clear: if I was demanding you would know. I can see you have already had enough loses for one day, and thought you might considered being able to save someone uplifting. I'm a pharmacist with the knowledge of how to make drugs, I assumed that might be a useful talent that you could use, but clearly not based on your attitude to me. I want to save my friend. I've been alone a long time, after watching my people be destroyed, so once more I apologize for any crankiness, shrillness and General upleasantness. She's the first person to give a damn whether I lived or died in months, and I won't let that be thrown away"[/color] Niesha kept her voice calm, level and soft. 

In this world, if you were perceived as weak you already were. And if she was going to get any foothold here, to be doing what she loved best, she couldn't be seen as weak. She wouldn't back down from this 'doctor'. But she knew she had to be careful, this wasn't her community, she wasn't responsible for their lives, and had to shift from the leader like attitude she had developed when she was the only pharmacist with assistants back before this all began. 

She couldn't be seen as emotional. It made it harder when she couldn't process them at times. Falling silent, she studied everything once more, her eyes sharp. Processing things would calm her, and watching the doctor would give her a measure of just how good he was. There was a difference between being trained for it, and having learned along the way-she should after all known, being the latter. She wished once more that she had continued into medical school, but compounding had seemed so much more interesting to Niesha. 

The doctor seemed able enough, and Niesha let out a slow breath. Maybe Sophie was in good hands. Bridgette had, hopefully, got to the amputation in time. They'd done it quickly, and in Nieshas experience that generally meant the difference between life and death. But also the persons strength of will was a playing factor, and Niesha had to hope that Sophie wanted to live in this world. 

[color=fff200]"please"[/color]

Niesha wouldn't be aware that she had whispered that plea, full of desperation, and hope. Hope was something she hadn't had in a long time, and something she hadn't yet processed. The moment she thought she was dead was still fresh, and then the movement, the flash of hope that she was going to be saved, had brought something back to her she had thought long gone. She went from being the walking dead, to alive once more. And she didn't want that to go again.