[b]Elijah
Tackett Farmstead: Makeshift Infirmary[/b]

With furrowed brows accentuating his annoyed demeanour, Elijah was busy bandaging the hand of one of the many farmhands that were now under his medical care thanks to the grateful Mr. Tackett who had hired both his and his young niece’s services. His workload was relatively simple: his day was either filled with cuts and bruises that he disinfected and bandaged with ointment or he may be lucky and have to deal with the only real medical threats on a farm like this, which were the illnesses that gripped one man and spread amongst the rest. Today it was a young man named Tobias’ turn to partake in the former. Elijah’s cold demeanor and distaste in socialising had helped to ensure there was nothing but silence during treatments or examinations of the injured. ‘Where does it hurt, what happened, be more careful’ was all that was needed, most of the time. 

[color=6096a4]“I told you to try and avoid soiling your dressings”[/color] he broke the silence, scowling judgmentally at the boy who was awkwardly waiting to be let go. [color=6096a4]“They must be kept fresh, yes, but we don’t have to waste supplies daily now do we?”[/color] he paused, staring at the boy but receiving no response except an apologetic nod and a meek ‘Yes sir.’ 
Elijah let out a sigh and took a step back, motioning towards the door marking the exit of the medium sized shed that was recently dubbed the ‘Infirmary’. Elijah held the door open and followed the boy through, only turning to the corner to dip and wash his hands in the barrel filled with cool water. His mind briefly pondered over Alice; who usually dropped by before attending her own duties.