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Malodore was... not getting involved. It knew nothing of the intricacies of Shehk and Nukpana's relationship, save that Israfel was delighted to it to near incoherence - not that that was unusual for the siren. It was not going to intrude now, not when the pricolici's emotional distress was clear even to it.

So. "Will you be needing some replacement scalp to cover your own injury?" it inquired, politely. "Christof has been collecting some samples on my behalf, for a different project, and I am certain he has picked up more than is strictly needed..."

Once Sammy returned, Malodore nodded to her. "Grazie - if you are ready, then, sit down. Put the ice on your scalp. Try and cover the edges that will be stitched." The plague doctor shifted one of its lamp-stands to redirect the beam's intensity to the top of Sammy's head, then began preparing needle and suture thread.

Exciting!

Sammy was starting to feel for the doctor, the two ghouls arguing before him over stuff he had no interest or need to know about. So when he finally gave directions Sammy would give a curt nod before taking a seat placing the ice on the edges of her head pausing to glance at Shehk with a look mixed with a bit of 'yes I loved you' and, 'how can you have been so dense that hurt!' None the less she turned away pretending to ignore the obvious near insult Shehk made.

"How long will this take doc?"

Shehk was in a strange awkward place now. It felt like all of her relationships were turning into a torrent of tail because she just couldn't communicate with a s**t with anybody. It was starting to frustrate her. Maybe she'd go back to the dorm and punch someone in the face.

But who did she have to punch in the face with her scrawny little arms....? NOBODY.

Now her head was beginning to hurt as much as her heart did.

"I appreciate you helping out like this, Malodore."

"Ah, I was more concerned that you might react by striking me," Malodore said to Sammy, cheerfully. "Instinctive pain responses can be strange things."

The plague doctor nodded to Shehk as well. "I enjoy such work. It is rare for me to work with animate patients... at least in a surgical capacity. Other than Christof, that is."

And the patchwork didn't even really count as 'surgery' anymore. He was more like a general task that had to be undertaken every so often, and would always, always have to be put back together again at some point.

Sammy gave a low whistle, watching as poor Shehk switched hands aimlessly trying to check her blood loss. "Well, I think Cricket once mentioned head wounds tend to bleed more then any other wound. So we might need more gauze for you..." Thankfully for Sammy she was significantly more dead then Shehk, her blood was thicker, clotted and barely flowed at all. Made a mess like jelly when she did bleed though.

"Cricket has it out for a lot of people, you recall Bul? She ate him I don't think she hates you enough to devour you as a lesson." Hopefully she added in her head. "And no hitting you. You have enough damage already. Anymore and we'll have to have doc here follow you around with a bag of supplies to keep you in shape."

At this point she rolled her eyes up trying to get a view of the doctor as he worked. "Naw, I only hit things I hate. Like arrogant demons, elves, gnomes, and people who generally deserve it." She paused for a moment though, "I don't know though, you are poking my head... I try to be careful not to let that get hit often to avoid any kinda spasms..." As if on cue the doctor touched her just right and caused her to perk up in her seat in what almost would be a headbutt if the doctor wasn't quick enough. "Ekeke! Okay I see your point!"

Always trust a doctor when they talk about pain, it was a lesson Sammy would learn quickly as the doc poked about her scalp with a needle.

"Well, you can't miracle work everything, Mal. I didn't expect you to have it. I'll just have to go take a walk through town after I clean up, maybe toss some laundry into a machine, and head off." Mmm, a walk would probably have been pretty nice. She was sure she'd be able to pander it off of someone.

Shehk smiled as Luce licked her fingers, her own tail thumping against the floor a few times before she let out a small bark of her own. Dog talk!

"Yeah, well.. I'm pretty sure Cricket dislikes me. I...stepped on one of her bugs in the first class." she said, lips tightening. Oh, it had been..accidental, but it was still very awkward. "But I'm sure I'll patch up with a bit of extra effort. Probably can't sleep until I've fixed that up."

Or else she'd just bleed and bleed and never stop!!

She hoped not.

"Food-grade blood would generally not be suitable for transplants," Malodore said, moving the ice off of Sammy's head and resuming its stitching as it spoke. "That blood would be purified, though. And stripped of some of its vital nutrition in the process, I believe, but such are the vagaries of modern life. I've never consumed any myself. About half-done, by the way."

Luce barked back at Shehk, then dropped into a canine play-bow, waving her tail high.

"Well I'm no expert on blood and stuff, I go for the meat of the meal rather then blood, it's more like a bonus." Her skin tingled strangely as the ice was removed, the dull sensation of the needle at work again wiggling ever so slightly every few pokes of said needle. "Well, I guess transfer stock won't make a good snack. And I hear the stuff keeps horribly, nothing worse then cold blood right?"

For a while she sat rather still as Malodore worked before giving a little jump again as the ice started to ware off. Shifting slightly her eyes glanced sideways to Shehk with a brief shrug. "Doing okay, doc said where half-way so soon we'll be good to get you something to eat, lot of blood for the puppy right?"

She glanced down noting Luce licking at the blood and hopping around to play, "And some for the littlest puppy too."