<div align="center"><em>Autolycus, taking a moment to compose himself<br/>Infirmary</em></div><hr/><br/>Autolycus was usually happy to see Nakia, a learned slave like Galo who he much-enjoyed talking to. And he was always interested to meet new slaves. At the moment however, he wasn't feeling too sociable and all he could spare Nakia and Amplus was a curt little nod. Despite the fact that the slave he and Galo were holding looked well and truly out of it, not any kind of handful, he had a rushed, occupied air about him. Dark wet spots stained the front of his tunic, his hair was messed up and his face shone with not quite dried-up sweat. Clearly something had been going on and was still going on. Something that troubled the medicus greatly, to judge by the deep furrows between his eyebrows.<br/><br/>The furrows deepened a little when he saw the exited state of the new slave... A little to eager, to his tastes.<br/><br/>He looked away then and, with Galo's help, managed to get Sorcha into the cage. He laid her down on the thin layer of straw that covered the hard wooden floor, then grabbed the bucket of water he'd used before, rushed outside to empty in, and put it in a corner of the cage for Sorcha to use if she needed to.<br/><br/>He closed the cage and secured it with a heavy iron padlock, the key to which he slipped unto one of the pouches attached to his belt.<br/><br/>"I'll be with you in a moment," he said to the room in general.<br/><br/>With that, Autolycus retired behind the curtain that shielded his sleeping area. A clean tunic. A moment to compose himself. Yes... And then he'd be able to face the world and pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened today.