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Dean Thomas (artisgratia) wrote in pandorarpg,

Dean recognised Terry Boot immediately and did his best to offer a smile. Maybe it was for the best he'd been assigned someone he knew to asses his progress. He avoided looking down at his right arm at all and shrugged his left one instead. "I'm doing well, I guess. Arm doesn't hurt." Which could have been both good and bad. "Bruises are pretty intense though." They'd bloomed and darkened to an intensely deep purple under his dark skin.

He sighed and looked away for a moment. "Healer MacDonnell give you any sort of idea when they'll let me go home, by any chance?" Dean knew that there was no way he'd get to leave that day, or probably even the next. He knew he'd been seriously hurt and that the only reason he felt as good as he did was the potions they kept pumping into him on a routine basis. Still he just wanted to get out.

It helped that he'd been moved out of critical care, but he was still in hospital. He had his journal, so he could keep up with what was going on, not that he could write in it. The first time he'd tried to pick up a quill he'd nearly broken down. It was only Seamus's presence that kept him sane enough to quietly request a dictoquill. He looked at his journal and then glanced back at Terry. Forcing some normalcy in his tone, he asked, "So, how've you been anyway?"