shove your pretentious attitude up your... [c]

This hadn't been a situation that she had wanted to land herself in. The healer who had taken her under his wing was out for the next few days... meaning that Camilla was being paired off from another floor in order to tend to her usual patients with the required supervision. Part of her was anxious that she was going to be partnered with someone who would do her job for her, not letting her learn or lending a hand.

The other part of her was even more afraid that her temporary teacher would be difficult to work with in every regard. Both of those situations would be irritating, frustrating, even. Her moods had been so up and down, her feet ached, her back ached. Camilla wasn't going to complain about the life growing within her, but she hadn't expected pregnancy to take so much out of her.

It hadn't helped that the loss of her first patient still clung to her every move, every decision. The mother and child hadn't survived the harsh pregnancy, and her anger had overflown. Camilla was honestly surprised she had kept her job when her temper had devolved into ripping her own teacher to shreds in her grief. It had been an exercise in control, and the man had been jovial since.

Sighing heavily, Camilla sunk into the chair at her desk, sorting through her cases and patients for that day. She had quite a few, but she knew it wouldn't be wise to start without first meeting with the healer who would be shadowing her decisions and patients. Thumbing through them a second time, Camilla started to organize them into an order that was most pressing to least pressing at that moment.

Reaching back, Camilla pulled her hair back into a long tail, letting it trail her back before she pushed herself to her feet, the movement almost difficult, awkward. A hand on her belly, she breathed out lightly, glancing about for a second time. There was an unfamiliar healer approaching her and her heart sunk a little. She knew every healer on this floor. Had they actually paired her with a healer that didn't even specialize in long term care, let alone women's health or maternity?

Camilla tried to keep herself composed, not wanting to give a poor impression before they'd already begun. Instead, she put her shoulders back, standing at attention and waiting for him to catch up to her so that they could begin. "Good morning," she greeted, her disposition sunny. "I've already sorted our cases for the day... whenever you're ready?" she offered softly.

-----

Words: 435
Tagged: Louis Fitzpatrick

Camilla Monet . 650?

Louis Fitzpatrick was at the end of an era of his life. In a few months he would no longer be healer of Alora Jane, but Professor of Potions at Hollow Creek Institute. And like the end of all other chapters in his life, Lou had taken the time between his patients to reflect on the worst parts. First, there were the patients. Often unruly and incapable of disclosing of pertinent information and instead sharing meaningless dribble of non-symptoms, they seldom took his advice to heart and ended up back in hospital weeks later for the same problems and demanding to be fixed again. It was non-sensical, endlessly frustrating, and something he genuinely looked forward to losing.

Second was his coworkers, especially the female ones. Louis should have known better than to choose a career that attracted people who needed the constant validation of making others feel better to temporarily appease their self-loathing. And the needless worry from his coworkers was constant. It seemed every time he looked up from his station on the fifth floor, his coworkers turned away and pretended to be interested in the same dreadful artwork that lined the walls the entire time he had been employed. Even worse was the consolation, the saddened eyes trying to convey understanding in something no one had the capability of truly understanding unless they stood in his shoes. Quite frankly it was condescending and insulting. As a healer, Louis knew exactly the damage he was causing himself, and he wanted their support like he wanted his head ripped off by a raging manticore.

So, given the opportunity to shirk away from his own floor and look after an intern for a few days was all the incentive he needed to take Miss. Monet under his wing. Even if she did work primarily with children and in obstetrics.

Thin fiery hair appearing to be ablaze from the sheer speed of his strides, Lou exited the stairwell panting. He turned immediately towards the Healers' station and scanned for his intern. Her condition was noticeable and repulsive even from a distance, and his nose wrinkled in distaste. Pregnancy had a way of warping and disfiguring a woman's body into unnatural proportions. A familiar wave of bile rose in his throat and stung the rear of his tongue as he quickly neared her. Hiding his initial revulsion to her condition, Lou perked up a quizzical brow and his lips pulled into a tight and unforgiving scowl. Evidently, the young woman had not been informed who would be supervising her for a few days, nor did she recognize him from the floor below. Miss Monet would not have pursued sweet-talking herself into a positive first impression with him if she had. No, Camilla would learn of his identity soon enough and put a face to his reputation.

And on that note, it was time to dissuade further brown-nosing from his temporary intern with a douse of cold mockery.

Louis patted down the fronts of his winter wizarding robes, then his sides, to find something in one of his many pockets. "I am sorry," He started drily, "It seems I am fresh out of golden stars to hand out." The message was clear: performing the duties expected of her would earn her no praise and blandishing him would earn her further ridicule.

He unceremoniously shoved his hands back into his front pockets and started speaking in a commanding voice, "Do me a favour and let us skip the unnecessary small talk from now until, well, indefinitely." The muscles in his neck grew taut and he continued staring at her unblinking, forcing himself from allowing his eyes to slip down to her disfigured swollen belly. "I'm Lou and I will be supervising you until your attending decides to come off his sabbatical. I'm from Plants and Potion Poisoning, but I worked a few years in long-term care and I am more than capable of correcting your mistakes. Speaking of – charts please." He held out a bony hand expectantly.