A few months had made a world of difference to the ramshackle clinic. Lirene and the refugees who were on the same boat begged, borrowed and bartered for equipment, supplies, actual cots, everything Anders needed to have a functioning clinic. It became something of a haven for the Fereldans too, many of whom stayed back to help out with food or comforting the patients.
He had been in contact with Karl, letters coming and going as often as they dared, until recently when they had stopped.
It was in a rather panicked mindset that Anders was trying to work through as he healed a woman’s twisted ankle.
“Cia! I need a hand!”