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Malodore was indeed in, and the soft whisper made Luce perk up her ears and pad over to the door in curiosity.

... Ombra launched himself at the door and smacked into it headfirst.

"Ah, piccolo, I know who this is - calm yourself," Malodore informed the pup, amused; Luce took it upon herself to lay on Ombra, pinning him to the ground. With the minipets thus restrained, Malodore opened the door. "Amrita. It is good to see you... can I assist you?"

"Of course," it said at once; its hand had already been going for the needles and suture thread, and it pulled both out of one sleeve. "I saw you were damaged at the meeting... you, too, were on the Isles, were you not?" It hesitated, wanting to ask who injured her, but it didn't seem right to inquire.

"Sit down, please - I know there's not much here, but you are welcome to it." Indeed, there wasn't much, just a wall covered in notes, a sarchophagus whose lid was covered in assorted items, a folding chair, and a cot all but drowning in purple bedlinens. Malodore grabbed the chair with its free hand and swung it around for Amrita. "Do you wish me to numb the flesh first? Some prefer it."

Malodore blinked, startled at the extent of the damage when it was revealed to it. "I can repair it - it's fortunate you are undead, or else you would have been severely inconvinienced by such a wound," it murmured, a flicker of anger darting through its mind. "Who did this to you? You... oh..." The vines brought back a surge of memory.

"Famine. You were there? I did not- I was... very distracted, there," it said, quietly. "Ah, but, I can repair this - all but the hand, I do not have any parts at the moment, though I am sure Christof does..." It leaned in, looking at the chest incision to see if any of the ribs were snapped. Its emotions were roiling - torn between sorrow and anger, but its professional calm was forcing those feelings down. For now.

"Ah, si, of course," Malodore said, with a nod, immediately understanding what the vetala meant. "That will make it easier for me as well..." It was carefully assessing the damage. A few of its higher-caliber supplies would be needed, but thankfully it had some help on hand, in the form of the kobold servant Jericho had given it.

The plague doctor leaned over and knocked on the sarcophagus' side; a moment later, a small face peeked out. "Go to my old chamber and retrieve... any flesh samples still viable, additional suture thread, bonemeld clay..." It looked back at Amrita. "Yes. That will do."

The kobold servant bowed and scurried off.

"There, now... hmm." Malodore got up and opened the room's small closet, pulling out a pale grey bedsheet and laying it out on the floor. It retrieved a pillow from its own bed. "Why don't you lay here? It will keep the body stable while I work on it."

Malodore bowed its head in acknowledgement. "Grazie... I am... coping. Moving forward, as one must. It helps to have work to do, and friends." It opened its beak in a small smile, grateful to her for bringing both things to its doorstep.

It knelt next to Amrita's body, craning its neck over to examine the damage now that the body was inert. "This looks like a stroke from a blade... a Hunter weapon?" it asked, keeping its voice calm. "I can use the bonemeld to regrow the ribs and sternum, but I may need to apply some new flesh to close the gap, here. The edges are too ragged to take stitching, so a patch would be easiest..."

It produced a set of tweezers and a magnifying glass from its sleeves, hunching over the throat wound. "I see... damage to the vocal cords, of course, esophagus... hm. This will take time. It would be easier to FEARheal... I would recommend visiting Nurse Cricket for that aspect of the work. Vocal cords are tricky things, and I don't have much experience with the fine parts of the larynx."

"Hah - va bene," Malodore said, grimly pleased at Amrita's tale. "We will leave our marks on them, and I do not think they can be as easily healed. And si, I can tend to most of this, but for the voice? Better to see her, indeed. I will leave that part open, so that she can heal it more easily."

A clacking of claws indicated the kobold servant's return; the creature had a small bag now. Malodore accepted the bundle and rummaged through it. "Good, good... grazie... now. The bone first." It removed a few more instruments, then tied back its sleeve, baring its forearms entirely. Then it leaned in, using some clamps to hold back the edges of the chest incision and better exposing the bone beneath. "Get out the small bits..." Carefully, it began working bone splinters free of flesh with a set of tweezers.

Malodore bobbed its head, warmed by Amrita's faith in it. "Grazie - I assure you, were I capable of handling it all myself, I would. But I know my limits, and that is also an important part of providing good care," it said, opening its beak in a smile.

Its beak closed at the mention of Christof. "I have, si... he seemed, ah. Single-minded. Though I suppose I cannot think ill of such things, as I myself doubtless seem that way to others..." It shook its head. How could it explain adequately the enormity of its task, of its need? Best not to try. "He, too, aches, and lacks avenues to explore those feelings," it said, after a long moment. Emotions really weren't its strong suit, or so it continued to tell itself - but now it had no one else to ask about such things. Only itself.