No, no, no. Vandelin's not about to let Kit get away with leaving his leg untended just because he can't be the one to do the tending--and he'd be even more adamant about getting it healed up better if he knew Kit had plans to set out again on a dangerous mission for which he can't afford to be at anything less than a hundred percent.

"You're still limping," he points out, not even raising the issue of the crutch, "and the studying can wait." The books are a hodgepodge of texts about the Veil, a slow attempt to catch up enough to make himself useful to the rift project, but that's certainly nothing as time-sensitive as all that.

Pausing just a moment, as long as he can persuade Kit not to hightail it just yet, he weighs his options. There's one other person here, just one, whom he'd trust to heal Kit and put him at ease while doing it--but it's best if he doesn't know where the referral's come from.

"My cousin dabbles more in healing than I do," he says. "Nothing with spirits, not that kind--just basic, restorative energy. The kind that makes plants grow." And grow, and grow. But let's not think too hard about the scary forest.

"He's a great guy. I promise you, you could trust him with your life. I'm not sure where you can usually find him; he's new here, but, ah, if you follow the locator glyphs he's left around..."