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"How is she?"

In the empty expanse of the boarding house's bar and lounge, Rot and the good Doctor Allister sat on nearly opposite sides of the room. On one of the couches Alma slept peacefully, her long locks messy and a faint smile on her face. In one of her large, clawed hands she held the gift she'd been given by Rot for the Winter holiday: a handmade plush dragon. Rot was about as skilled at sewing together toys as he was at sewing himself together which was almost not at all. Still, his little sister adored the wall-eyed plush and had kept it on her person ever since.

"Considering she's a piecemeal doll Magnus created, surprisingly stable," came the response. Her tone was still cross even after her third glass of red wine; she was not at all happy when deprived of her seasonal slumber.

"Weren't you the one scolding me on her gender?" Rot's eyes briefly glanced towards the whiskey under the bar counter before averting quickly. It wouldn't do any good to drink, not when whiskey only made him angry.

Allister drifted right past the question. "I attached a fresh pair of hands in her size, donor parts, of course. Her body isn't like yours, she can handle any number of transplants or graphs without rejection so she should have full control of them in less than an hour. Her mental state is something to worry about..."

Rot waited a few seconds for the doctor to continue but the naga only took a generous drink from her glass. "She's afraid," he said, eyes cast at the floor.

"'Afraid' is too kind a word," the doctor corrected. "She's terrified."

"Of Magnus."

"Oh, not just him. She's terrified of you, me, the constant pain, even Alma." She paused. "Especially Alma."

They both looked at the sleeping girl on the couch, her fearsome hands she only ever raised to protect those she loved. Clumsy, yes. Naive, yes.

Hateful?

Bearing a grudge?

Never.

"Her heart's too kind sometimes," Rot muttered. "You know she begged me not to go hunting for her attacker? After Magnus returned to heal her... she said the girl that shot her was scared and didn't know what she was doing."

Allister didn't speak, only took another drink as Rot continued.

"How could someone like Morana think it was a good idea to attack Alma like that?"

The naga sighed and finally set her glass down. "She was looking for appreciation. Affection, recognition... she craved something very basic, something she didn't understand but wanted so desperately from the wrong person. Magnus gave her life and intelligence but nothing else, not even a kind word when she actually did follow orders."

Allister slithered quietly to Alma's side and lowered herself, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from the girl's cheek. "I can't hate her for wanting to be loved, even if she did something so cruel to achieve her goal. Especially if Alma doesn't hold it against her either."

"Easy for you to say," Rot muttered and ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "I almost executed her... medieval-style. I couldn't stop myself and if you hadn't come out then and there-"

"Stop that. You got over yourself and even carried her to the clinic."

"After you slapped sense into me."

"To be fair, you were long overdue for a good smack."

That got a chuckle out of Rot and he leaned back on his bar stool. "She asked me to help her. I can't get over that... a Nail asking me for help."

"That's why you opened this place. To help people."

Both the doctor and Rot jumped at Alma's soft voice, watching the girl sleepily shift into a sitting position and yawn, plush dragon in her lap. From the collar of her oversized shirt popped Om's fuzzy black head and the teddy yawned as well. Regarding her brother with her mismatched eyes she smiled.

"I'm glad," she said while shaking her hair out of her face. "I'm glad you helped her when she asked. Can I go talk to her?"

Rot finally found his voice. "Um, are you sure about that? I know you forgave her but-"

"Doc said she's scared of me and I... I don't like it when people are scared of me." As she spoke she raised one of her large, claw-fingered hands to her face and looked at it sadly. "I don't want her to be afraid of her friends."

"F...friends?"

Alma simply gave a rather adorable smile and hopped to her feet, padding up the stairs to the clinic with Om and her stuffed dragon in tow. As the sound of her footsteps faded, the immortal turned to Allister, eyes wide with surprise while the doctor only took another drink of wine and smirked.

"Told ya."

End Part 3