“If
you fall down, you great lummox, I’ll find it difficult to get you up, whereas
if you’ll just resort to the damn painkillers you’re too macho to take, I might
manage to assist you to bed when they’ve kicked in.”
Having disgorged the anger, Aela
waited for the fallout. Nairn’s eyelids flickered; his hand gave a limp wave at
a bunch of pencils on the desk, the ogle back again. A blister pack of tablets
and the original package—a squashed mess of cardboard—were stuffed inside the
round pencil canister. She scanned the dosage.
I hope you enjoy them!
Slainthe!
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