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Being discharged never meant a body had to be 100% healed. Hard times called for limited space. Siata took up that space with her huge wher settle in the infirmary, meaning they needed a private room. After the Gather and her success at not ding the healers deemed her fit to live alone again. Sita visited every other day to say 'yes, I'm alive' but otherwise she had a huge Siask for company and a generous pot of foul smelling numbweed.

It reeked of rotted plants, reminding her each time that lie had claws. When the pain turned to steady ache of scars pulled too tight too often, she stopped using it until she could no longer move. Tying to wash Siask left her fetal the next day... and smelling of numbweed. with the guilt, the betrayal of friends, it all compounded to keeping her hidden in her home. Siask hunted for himself, a task made easier without his attempts to murder everyone in his path. Without being cleared for work.. iata didn't think about what would happen if they never cleared her. She hurt and felt ugly, useless.

Also, she continued to stink of rotted plants.

Siask eventually poked enough for her to get up the nerve to talk to the Oil Woman. Neither caught her name at the Gather, Siata not having wanted to ask about nice smelling human oil for scars instead of buttsex. Not in public, at least. They went to the infirmary where Siask camped out side and Siata assured her healer that, really, she felt fine, but where was the tall skinny woman with the oils? The brief description earned her a name - 'Oh! Lanakirene!' - and a general wave of a directional hand.

Try as she might to keep her trek through the infirmary quiet, thick boots and her inherent inability to be graceful like hoers left her all but tromping.. How svelte, how ladylike. Siata hesitate when hearing another presumably female person and called out. "Hello? I'm looking for Lanakirene?"

Siata jumped when she heard a commotion from the back room. She shifted slightly from foot to foot, all the manners that were once beaten into her brain telling her to go and help the healer. With her one arm tossed in a sling and the call from the young healer, it seemed best to just stand there like a starstruck wherrie until she finished. Crouching and standing back up... well, it hurt. It pulled on skin and muscles in away she avoided thinking about.

"We bud like those little potted plants. I've secretly created dozens. They're wandering around the various Weyrs," Siata replied without thinking. She looked down. "Oh, well shards, you're the pretty healer. Which I probably shouldn't be saying considering I've just been standing here while you dropped all of your... odd looking plant stuff."

She made a face, twice broken nose crinkled. Siata grinned, her good shoulder shrugging. "La, right. Yes, hi, that's me. My baby's right outside of the infirmary as we speak, he's still clinging like an insecure firelizard. But I'm just blathering, which is charming m'sure. Ah, well..." Siata shifted again, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone else had arrived because her attention went back to La. "You were selling oil at the Gather. I had a friend with me and my - well, what happened to me isn't really something I like talking about in public. Or someone like Adi, really. Good friend, small, adorable, but she's bad when it comes to stuff like this. They pull - the scars, not Adi, she hugs - just, I was wondering if you... had anything. Oil or something. I smell like numbweed so I don't use much anymore but they pull."

Her grin warmed a fraction when she made La laugh. Had she been unharmed, a bow would have happened. La missed out (and luckily so, Siata did not bow well). She waved her good hand, unfazed by La's dismissal. "I think you're pretty. Totally forgot the blackrider bit, honestly, but I'll take your word on the weird. s'not like I'm really one to talk about weird anyway."

The rush o questions quieted Siata for a minute. While no fellis remained to muddle her head, the questions required her to go through a mental checklist. Siask sleepily supplied some details, memories of feelings and the pain, what caused the pain outside of the fact a wher got to her.

"Er," said Siata, ever eloquent. "Questions are good, sorry, I'm just kind of making a list in my head. It doesn't hurt when I move until I move a lot or twist. If I just walk around for a day or sprawl out, I'm okay. It's when I try to be, y'know, a productive human being that the skin pulls. Like.. ah, washing Siask used to take me two hours, tops, if he was really gross. I'd just be a little sore. Now it's an all day thing and I feel as if I got trampled by a wher that night and next day."

She paused. "Well, trampled again. S'mostly my own fault, they said they didn't really have a lot to work with when I came here because a lot of it was infected but apparently it grew back under the bandages - shaff, you know that, right, healer. My bad. So most of it's new skin but I can't just... sit there and let it do nothing. I don't use numbweed because it smells like disgusting and when it wears off it smells disgusting with the pull at the seams of the scars - usually in the middle of the day too, which is idiotic. 'M not allergic to anything I know. And... And Now I'm rambling. So there you have it, we both talk."

No matter Siata's mindset towards the world in general, her public default remained firmly in place at all times. It didn't push her, it didn't cause strain; to be quite frank, she didn't even think about it. Ugly thoughts and sadness came when she had no one around with only her own thoughts as company. She knew it couldn't be healthy when she took the time to think about it but, really, despite a bit more silence and reservation to her than normal, Siata stayed nearly the same in public - and with that came flirting. Over the years, she learned that ladies liked the compliments, even the cheesy ones - especially the cheesy ones as long as they were genuine - and she had no shortage of genuine, cheese-filled compliments to give to lovely ladies like La. Kleos tended to fluster, and Siata stopped flirting with her, but even her own private angst didn't stop the flicker of satisfaction that followed the pretty smile, the nod.

All of that didn't stop the instant upward tilt of her head and wide eyes at one particular reassurance of the healers. "Scars stick to muscles?" Siata couldn't quite keep the alarm out of her voice or the quick glance to her covered chest. "The tight I knew about, I wasn't told about sticking or..." Or hey, La's words sunk in. Siata blinked once and huffed out a small laugh, waiting for her to finish before she interrupted again.

"I doubt any of my friends ever wanted to see me shirtless, let alone now," Though how much she wanted to show them off to other people remained in question. She only managed the numbweed because it dulled the pain as she did it. Siata grinned again, one large hand waving in the general area of her bandages, careful not to move too quickly. "Usually I would make a wildly inappropriate comment about generally needing dinner before whipping off my shirt but, again, really not appropriate. I will definitely need to bother, ah, someone in the infirmary. ... Though I've gotta say, it's nice to be compared to a dragon instead of a wher for once."

Boundaries crossed and erased. She'd not blame La if the young woman scampered away at the shirt bit right then and there. Orders came anyway from the blackrider. Healer orders, no matter how friendly the tone, were still orders. "Mastercrafter said I could do the smaller work. I'm good with my hands but it's... fidgety. I fidget. There's no moving. Though tearing under the scar doesn't sound appealing at all..." Siatas smile flagged for a brief moment and she rubbed at the back of her neck with her good hand. "Best not be tramped. Right. So I should hit up the creche and then pester you for oils and the like?"