Sometimes, being in the Healer's wing had its benefits. F'lin didn't have to worry about his squadmates getting seriously hurt. He didn't have to worry that his lack of sight was slowing anybody else down. He knew where the bandages and numbweed were kept if he had a scrape or something that wasn't worth bothering the actual Healers about. And he didn't worry that he'd ever miss a friend's injury the way he'd missed Nat's broken leg during his time as a weyrling.
And sometimes, being in the Healer's wing really, really sucked.
Kaladin was alive. That was the important part. F'lin was trying to focus on that as a positive. Eraelth was a mess, though she didn't show it the way people would expect. She was shorter than usual, and snappish, especially if she had to be away from Cravellath for any length of time. She was all but glued to the other green's side, insisting on bringing her food so she wouldn't have to be away from the infirmary and her Kaladin. Even if she only remembered her closeness to Cravellath through F'lin, she was still acting as protective of her sister green the way a wher mother was of her eggs.
F'lin was taking things a bit more in stride. While it was true that he hadn't lost a limb, he knew what it felt like to lose a physical capability everyone else took for granted. Still, he spent as much time as he could with Kaladin. He didn't want his friend to feel alone or abandoned in addition to having lost a limb. So on his break, he quickly grabbed some food from the dining hall and came back to the infirmary to eat. "They had me scrubbing bedpans all morning," he said pleasantly as he got himself settled next to Kaladin's bed. "No one bothers to tell you how much of the work you do in the Healer's wing is scrubbing bodily fluids off things when you're not an actual Healer. They're lucky I'm not good for much else with eyesight like mine." He'd grabbed an extra pastry that he offered to Kaladin before he started in on his meal. "Anything interesting happen while was gone?" he asked.