Sandrim is sitted on the edge of his bed, where Taran is out cold, eating a pie. Ziavri is nearby, doing something. Muri enters the bedroom on soft feet, a tray in her hand. "G'eve, Messer," she says. "e still sleepin' aye?" She bustles over to the bedside and settles in to clean and dress wounds. "He was awake for a little bit earlier," Sandrim says with a shrug. "He's... getting better, I think." Sandrim smiles wryly. "You should have seen him after the tentacles got to him," he says. "This... is nothing. He'll recover. Sandrim smiles faintly. "Well, they still have to deal with dad."