From Ashes

[Morven]

“Aye, I’m sure he would too. Lucky for him I dinae aim further south for the demonstration.” She laughed, but there was nothing vicious in it. Men like Taichechski listened better when the message did not rely on their ears, and she’d had enough of the attitude. Such things were better nipped sooner rather than later, and from what she could see, he frequently rubbed the others up wrong. Morven was surprised one of the others hadn’t already done it. Or perhaps they had and the lesson was just slow to permeate. Either way, the freedom to act so candidly was catharsis to a soul that had been bound by the more respectable responsibilities of doctor’s white, even if that self-same temper was what had stripped her of those hallowed duties in the first place. She didn’t hold a grudge, but she wasn’t apologetic for it either. Fuck, she’d done worse with less feeling, and no more ill deserved. She smirked. "My lips'll stay sealed."

Morven paused for a swallow of water from a bottle perched at the end of the mat, brushing the back of a damp arm over her forehead. She watched Rykovi quite openly as he worked, and shrugged at the question. “What makes you think I didn’t volunteer, eh? I take it you didn’t then.” There was husky tease to her tone, but really she wasn’t that interested in whatever landed him here. Nothing good, probably, and those were the kinds of stories better spent bonding over a stiff drink not on idle talk during a work out. Her own story she was not protective over, though. “Got too possessive over the welfare of a patient. Messing with powerful people gets you burned, aye? This was the better alternative.”