Zia sits on the bed, making steady headway on a bit of toast in her hand. Taran just answered the door. Head canted curiously to the side, Zia watches the doorway. Muri smiles brightly. "G'day, Messer Taran," she says. "Thought Ah'd come t'seen Missus Zia. See 'ow she's a'farin' t'day. Tis a good time or no?" She fingers the strap of her pack absently. Taran nods. "It is a fine time," he says lightly. "She was just about to eat, you are welcome to join the talk. We have an idea what may be causing this." Taran laughs a bit. "Just chatting...you have not been coughing at all, have you?" Goldweaver