With the weyrlings joining the fight against Thread Tristram had been quite a busy man. By the time that he stopped to take a break and thoroughly clean his work space, he realized that the first half of the Fall was already over. Calmly, Tristram wiped off the table, sanitizing it thoroughly. He had been cleaning it between patients, of course, but it never hurt to make sure. The bowl set to one side was pink with blood and needed to be changed. He poured boiling water over it, washing it with meticulous care.

Then, once certain that he was ready for his next patient, he pushed back the curtain - only to discover a very familiar face indeed. Quirking a brow, Tristram observed a rather beaten up D'mar. "Your face has healed nicely," he remarked, reaching out to trace his hand just above where the even scars graced the young man's face. How very fitting indeed. The look was a good one for the rider, to be sure.

Now. What in particular had brought the Bluerider to him? Scanning him over, Tris made every effort to avoid showing partiality. He wasn't exactly the best at hiding his emotions, but there were important things to focus on right now. Things a bit more important than exactly how badly he wanted to put D'mar in his place. "Get on the table."

ShinosBee