Check-up

Mae Breeze trotted out of the break room with a new pep in her step after relaxing. She let out a quiet snort of laughter. Pep in my step in my pep in my step in my pep...

Mae, you're a loser, she told herself jokingly. And stop talking to yourself.

She had a two o'clock appointment in about five minutes with a stallion requiring a check-up on his leg. It was a bit funny--when she was younger, the sight of an amputated leg would probably make her sick to her stomach. Now, she could operate on one without even blinking an eye. Not that she had to operate on anything today or anything. She hoped.

She had just sat down to look over the appointment's details briefly when a colleague popped in. "Mae, your patient's ready in room 275," she chirped before heading off to some other event.

"Thanks!" Mae called after her. Scooping up her clipboard, she headed off to the second floor.

Brew sat in one of the rooms, scowling at the wall while lying on a bed. How could he have been that stupid? It's fig leaves you add to make cough medicine, not a big leaf! He guessed he must have just been tired at the time. 

Regardless, the mixture had exploded and poisoned Brew. Some passing shoppers heard it, grabbed Brew and had him sent up to the hospital. Brew was really starting to get bored- the poison had been pumped out, but apparently he had to rest up. That was incredibly annoying, as he had stuff planned. He had to make some potions for the day, he had a delivery to make and he still had to feed Archie! 

Brew was worried about Archie, his pet tarantula. He needed somepony to take care of him while Brew was in hospital but there was nopony he could ask. He lived quite far from other ponies as the house was cheap, so he couldn't ask for the neighbours' help. His family was all the way back in manehatten. They'd already visited, but Brew was unconscious at the time and they had to leave.

Grumbling, he waited for somepony to come in so he could ask them for the help.

Sea Salt walked, or, rather stumbled, into the small check up room, curiosity filling his brain. He had never been inside an actual hospital before. It was mostly because he doesn't have a penny to his name, and a bit of him found hospitals a waste of time when e could be out playing his lute.

His mother, who's living in Appleoosa at the moment, sent him 3 whole bits. He hasn't had that much money before in his life! He sent her a letter promising to repay her, as a true gentlecolt wouldn't just accept gifts as if they were nothing. He hoped it would cover the fees for a check up on his amputated leg.

It had been feeling really...weird lately. The stub that was left would get tingly, and then numb. It also always hurt, to no prevail.

He sat on the white bed in the check up room and pondered how bad it could actually be. The only time it was looked at was the day it got eaten off, and his mother had crudely sewed the big gash together with sewing needles in a desperate attempt to close the wound, and once it was somewhat healed, she fitted on one of the lute's (it's like a smaller guitar, but not as small as a ukelele) she made onto it to serve as a pegleg. Who knows if he caught some deep seated virus from the open wound...but he shook those worried feelings off of his mind and tried to make his extremely knotted super curly mess of a mane presentable, and repositioned his tattered and torn scarf.

Mae wished she saw the look on her face when she first caught a glimpse of the lute sown onto her patient's amputated leg. She felt sorry for the poor colt--he probably got that same bug-eyed, shocked expression five times a day from every pony who saw it. She had heard of peglegs, but this was new. Who ever heard of sewing an instrument onto your body?!

Mae quickly turned her expression into what she hoped was a normal smile. "Good morning! How are you feeling today?" She feigned a glance at her clipboard, pretending she had yet to find out what the problem was with her patient. "It says here that you're here about your leg, is that right? Have you received medical attention for it before?"

She sneaked another glance at it. The lute itself was finely carved, but clearly well-loved and often used. She shuddered internally to think of the pain he must have endured to have it attached. She almost didn't want to know under what circumstances it had to happen.

(just skip moi)

"Oh, hello, m'lass, the names Sea Salt, nice to meetcha!" Sea Salt said, greeting the polite mare that walked into the room.

"Oh, I've been feeling same old same ol', and I am definitely here fer my leg, and that would be a no, if yeh don't count my ma, who put Ol' Gertrude," he points to his lute, named Gertrude, "on, when the incident happened," he said in a quick pace, his pirate-y accent kicking in.