Kaqir sighed contentedly, ruffling her feathers. She'd always liked how they looked at night. The moon was a pretty sort of painter. Every fiber, every detail, every mote of dust and dirt and molting skin smiled sweet with silver. 

She didn't really have the energy to wax poetic, though, so she just thought, [i]ooo, sparkly.[/i] It was an adjective she wielded quite often, about a great many things. Especially coin. 

The job had been a straightforward one—a young Tekeri boy, taken ill with a cruel strain of giardiasis. Ertiseda was nice enough, but any town that sprung up quick enough for trade was bound to have issues getting a reliable water source. The mother, poor dear, was worried nearly as sick as her son. They didn't have money to spare, but Kaqir checked up on him. Like a fool. Saw him shivering in that tiny homemade blanket and broke. It was easy to fix him, in the end. None of that tearing and stitching and blood. No. No. Diseases like this were simple. His white blood cells were being overwhelmed, and fast. All she had to do was send reinforcements, and with them, a message: [i]you can be strong. you will be strong. you will choke out the monsters that hurt your little boy.[/i] 

He looked like Sev'ee. 

She shut the door behind her. That was her problem. None of these patients were her [i]family[/i]. Healing took skill and energy and time. If she was going to make it as a mercenary, she was going to have to be responsible. Realistic. [i]Paid[/i]. No matter how good it felt to know she could save people.

But she made her choice, and here she was: certifiably broke. Her rent at the inn was definitely due tonight, and she hadn't earned a thing but a thank-you-loaf in days.