"I shouldn't bother you at all in the house of the sick."

Infirmary
The soft glow of autumn sunlight fills the room with golden warmth. Thin white curtains keep the glare out while allowing enough light in to dispel shadows. A small ceramic heater sits on the floor near the bed, available for use when needed. A wide bed stands in the center of the south wall, white linens carefully tucked in around its mattress. A low table stands beside the bed, a small basin and pitcher perched atop it. Two large chairs sit facing the bed, and a small wooden chair sits against the south wall opposite the table. A tall cabinet occupies the northeast corner of the room, its glass door revealing a well-stocked medicine cabinet, various medical implements and supplies carefully arranged within.
The only exit from the room is a single door on the eastern wall.

Cedric comes cautiously up the stairs, having found the ground floor deserted save for a pleasant scent of cooking food. There must surely be someone around the farm, but he's hesitant to invade into areas he hasn't been shown yet. Reaching the second floor landing, he pushes open a door carefully, to find himself in some kind of sick bay set-up.

5'2" of youthful energy packed up into a body all too willing to use it. Emma would be described as pretty if she were cleaned up and dressed the role, but all too often the scrapping tomboy paints herself with bruises instead of blush.
Somewhere in her mid-teens, her features are strong but decidedly feminine. High cheekbones and full lips work well to compliment her almost button nose and deepset eyes, while dark, ash blonde hair frames her face. While not straight, it is not curly either, and untied it reaches down past her shoulders. Her eyes are a cool blue, reminiscent of a bright summer day - but like the weather they seem to hold an amount of unpredictability. There is a hardness to her gaze, and while her smiles can be warm and sincere, they are well guarded.
Her posture is an odd mix of insecurity and confidence -or at least what might be confused as confidence. She seems surefooted and comfortable with herself, but exudes a certain edginess to those she might see as a source of ridicule.

One that shows recent signs of stress as well. The cabinets have been banged into and a splattering of food covers the walls and lays unattended on the floor. A fresh tray, though untouched, remains near the bedside of the only inhabitant. A slight girl, under twenty by looks, with hand resting over a stained bandage on her stomach. She's not sleeping and so turns to look at the doorway, growing immediately tense when the face is unfamiliar.

"Oh!" says the face. "I do beg your pardon. I was hoping to find Cole, or one of his friends...?" It speaks with a British accent.

Emma lets out a slow breath, "Haven't seen Cole. Dillen was here a bit ago. So was Erika." She points to the food, "The kid left that for me."

Cedric delivers a broad, tooth-gleaming smile to Emma. "Erika is a good kid," he opines, "and a credit to my family."

Emma studies the other for a moment then and finally nods. "Fang then. Get. I'd get up and introduce myself more to your liking, but don't really feel up to it just now. Sorry."

Cedric moves into the room. "Taken some knocks?" he asks, not in an unfriendly way. "Cedric's my name. Fostern and galliard of the First Tribe. I'll spare you the genealogical gubbins. I never yet met anyone but a Silver Fang who was interested in my great-great-grandmother."

Emma nods her head, "Taken and returned in kind. Challenge, successful, more or less. Emma Mahler, Modi, Fostern. Not quite settled from an argument I've had, so pardon the lack of cheerfulness. Where are you from anyway?"

"Hertfordshire," Cedric replies. "Which is kind of up and right a tiny bit from London. England, not Ontario. Though I lived in Ontario for a while. I've been halfway round the world following Falcon's word, and odds are I'll do the other half too, but for now I'm seeking chiminage here. Are you locally based? I mean, do you know the houses round about here? As opposed to the city?"

Emma shakes her head, "Nah, my place is in the city and thats where my pack holds territory. Just abusing the farmhouse for a few days. You looking for a place to buy up, or what?"

Cedric lifts his hand and points a finger at Emma for a second. "Got it in one. You're smarter than the average bear," he smiles. "Vera-rhya suggested that this would be acceptable chiminage, and happily, I have enough money that I can afford a place nearby so long as it isn't ridiculously huge or opulent. Ah, wait. Emma... you pack with a chap named Thomas Grey?"

At this her eyes narrow, "Yes. Why?"

A certain sadness seems to steal over Cedric. "In that case you formerly packed with one of my tribe? Clemency Haynes. It was her cousin at the One Bright Star who suggested that I might be needed up here, and Osric agreed."

The jawline tenses again. "Yes. She packed with us as well, I considered her a sister and friend, not just a packmate." Emma turns her gaze to the window then, perhaps unable to deal with that topic at the moment.

Cedric senses Emma's discomfiture and drops the subject. "So the city's a pretty lousy place? Or so Grey said," he ventures.

"It's a warfront, and more and more of the Sept is taking territory out here. You don't win a war by retreating all the time. So Havoc is staying put out there." Emma lets out a sigh, "Between the Wendigo, the metis and the wolfborn, there are slim picking for those who might even care to put up resistance in the scab."

Cedric raises one eyebrow in a millimetre-perfect expression of mild surprise. "Not many Wendigo will put up with the city for long, surely?"

"Exactly, they all have positions out here on the bawn. All the better for me, since there's not one in the lot I can stand." She glances over to the other and frowns, "You know, this isn't the best time for twenty questions, so if you insist on keeping them coming, the least you could do is bring that tray of food closer."

Cedric gives a little self-conscious smile. "I shouldn't bother you at all in the house of the sick. Here, Emma-yuf," he says, lifting the tray. "I'll leave you be. I should be downstairs for a while, though, so holler if you want anything?" He puts the tray down well within the Get fostern's reach.

Emma grins slightly at this, "Thanks. I promise to be more hospitable in a day or two. Cole should be in or around soon I would imagine. And your cub probably got an eye opener earlier- you may want to check in on that." That offered, she sits up slowly to start pecking at the food.

Cedric turns his head as he moves back towards the door. He seems about to ask another question, but evidently remembers his just-made promise, and turns back to the door. "Get well schnell," he bids her as he departs.