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Zeke was squinting at the patient chart as he entered the room, rereading the notes on the bottom that outlined what the patient as here for, and even a second time it didn't exactly make sense. Not a typical issue that you'd run into in the real world. Only is Deus.

"So," he said as he looked up, recognizing the trainee as the one he'd fought against not that far back. "You've got a bruise that's concerning you?"

The chart was set down on the counter beside the sink, and Zeke hooked himself the stool with his foot, dragging it over so he could take a seat.

"Oh, it's me," he echoed, not at all out of by the greeting. He'd been working in the infirmary for quite a while now, and he'd had all manner of receptions. There wasn't much that suprised him anymore, and even less that bothered him.

He leaned forward as Rhys present the injured arm, reaching out to take hold of his wrist so he could turn it this way and that, looking it over completely. Grey in color, it didn't look like any bruise Zeke had ever seen before. And that, paired with the comment on it moving, had the Mist frowning up at the other trainee.

"How did it happen, and where?" Both important questions to consider, considering the nature of their lives and jobs. "And move how?"

So not the Sahara, and not insects. That was a relief, although, it also eliminated Zeke's initial thoughts on what the bruising might actually be.

He frowned thoughtfully as Rhys explained the way it moved. Not a migration, like the Mist had initially thought, but a broiling, churning sort of movement. Like smoke moving under a glass. Contained, but fluid.

Very odd.

"Does it hurt?" They could take a sample, see what they were working with.

With that explication he was finally reaching out to trail his fingers over the spot, feeling for anything under the skin, Even if only a slight rise. It sounded like there was something in there, something that was pushing on the muscles and the bones when he moved the wrist. "Has it gotten bigger at all?"

Etting go, the Mist leaned back on his stool, rolling back a few inches. "I wanna take a sample, but it feels like a water balloon, and if we drain it I think that'll make it feel better. Less pressure pushing on the muscles and tendons in your wrist.

That said, he got up and crossed the room to the counter and the supply cabinet beside it so he could gather up what he was going to need.

"I haven't seen anything like this, but someone might have. Samples just to make sure all bases are covered." It was a Fear based, fluid filled pocket beneath the skin, but beyond that, Zeke wasn't sure. So he would drain it, take a sample, and advise the trainee to keep an eye on it for any sign of reoccurrence, or anything else weird.

His tray, as he returned, held a long needle, a swab, a vial, and the usual supplies needed to clean up and dress a smaller wound. Fresh gloves, a cold cotton ball scrubbed over Rhys' wrist, and Zeke was ready to go. "If you have a weak stomach, I suggest not watching this part. I would really rather not be thrown up on."

He'd take Rhys at his word that he'd be fine, though prepared himself all the same to move away quickly at the first sign of gagging. He'd been vomited on before, and he wasn't in a hurry for it to happen again.

Concentrating on the darker skin, he'd pick a point closer to the lower edge to insert the needle, and that in itself wasn't the easiest. It wasn't something their shields really had to guard against, but some were just stronger than others, and there always seemed to be a little extra resistance when dealing with hunters. It went in though, and after drawing it out slowly he positioned a large square of gauze beneath where he'd made the hole.

"Okay, here we go." Thumb shifting to the bruise itself, he pushed down into the upper edge of it, rolling it downward to drain the mystery fluid from the trainee's arm.