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Velvet was treating yet another human patient when she heard the whispers. It’s great to have Orren for a hospital setting, but that means drama spreads fast, and is nearly impossible to avoid.

This time, it was about Velvet. The wall was only whispering, but those types of comments always sound the loudest.

She really shouldn’t be distracted by this. After she finished changing a spore-ladened poultice on a human who had yet to receive a mote, she stepped back into the grown arch. Doorways were the worst for drama. Through the threshold, and there was no turning back.

The whispers talked about Darmon asking embarrassing questions. Her mind flitted to the dream she visited him in. Did she say something there? Brushing it from her mind so she can connect to the network without announcing her guilt, she tentatively touched an antler to a doorframe. That way, she could retract quickly if people found her snooping.

Basically holding her breath, she heard the full story. Darmon was asking occasionally if people could see his light. Her breath quickened. Did he say yellow light? Please, no. She retracted from the doorframe before it could pick up her fears. Stilling her mind, she touched it tentatively again.

Nurses were switching out in Darmon’s room because he kept asking each of them about his mote. She can forgive him for being curious about his mote. She consciously sent that energy through the network, hoping to still the chatter. But there it was again. Her name came up. He was telling everyone that she could see his light!

Of course they knew that; she was the person who identified his mote from the beginning. But he was basically admitting that Velvet found him aesthetically attractive. At least he didn’t announce what color she saw in him. She would get teased about that for weeks.

Teaches her not to visit dreams unless they’re already a partner. Lesson learned. It’s a very intimate space to be in, not just for the person being visited, but her tongue seems to loosen up when in that setting. She practically gushed over the colors she saw in that little mote. In Darmon.

Her hooves clopped a quick number as she tippy tapped in embarrassment. Her antlers swung away from the wall. That was a close one. She really hopes the situation doesn’t develop any further. Eventually, they will get used to the vocal patient. It’s not like nurses haven’t had belligerent visitors before. Velvet just doesn’t usually find her name in the midst of the chatter!

Her attention turned back to her work as she heard another bout of dry coughs from back in the room. She rushed to their side and instinctively plucked a yellow pod from her antlers, rubbing it against their sternum. It broke into its marbled dust, settling on them. She has no clue if its pain-relieving properties work on human biology, but if a spore made a home in the human by now, it could give a boost to starting fungal life.

The coughing grew weaker, and she pressed against the wall in concern. A doctor showed up moments later. Her honeycomb head swiveled, scanning the room. Velvet could nearly see her thinking. This wasn’t the first time a patient got weaker. She asked Orren to pressurize the room. The door frame curved inward at every corner. Velvet felt the room get significantly heavier as the doorway closed, and a pore started rushing filtered air into the space. The room itself began to breathe. Orren couldn’t keep this up forever, but the doctor was already getting to work. Velvet felt for a pulse, taught by Darmon himself. She felt a weak one, so she tilted the patient's head back and gave them mouth to mouth under the doctor’s instruction.

They tried a few more ideas, but soon the pulse weakened and they had to switch to chest compressions. Orren was out of energy and needed to fill up more fresh air. Passing it through filters was already a difficult task ahead of him, even beyond sustaining pressure in a room. He had the other patients to deliver fresh air to.

Velvet bowed her head in defeat as the doctor declared the patient deceased. Their compatible spore could have been in the next poultice. The damage to the lungs and system was too great to heal from. More humans were turning up every day, and the clinic was beginning to understand all stages of their ailments.