Vera's nine-year-old self has been running around the grounds quite happily, but when she is returned to adulthood somewhere a ways from the mansion, it is in precisely the state she was in before she touched the phoenix feather
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"Please pardon the presumption, madam," softly, "but perhaps I might help you wherever it is you are going?" He stands respectfully to the side, but there's a slight air about him that suggests no matter what she says he'll insist on giving her a hand.
"I'm sure. Here, please take my arm." Without waiting for her, he gently but very firmly puts an arm about her waist and holds her hand with his, effectively supporting her.
"I appreciate your concern, sir, but I assure you I am quite capable of finding my way to my room alone." Her tone is less firm than it might be, though, as there isn't much breath behind it, and already she's leaning into him, her body not obeying her will.
"You know, sometimes doctors know what they're talking about, even if they sound like know it alls." His words are only rough because it's him; otherwise his expression is fairly sympathetic. "You got some help, I see. Need any more?"
"Yes, well, I didn't mean to be gone for long," she says with a wry look. "Running around the grounds climbing trees was entirely my nine-year-old self's idea, and not at all agreeable to me once I returned to my usual age." She takes a deep breath, trying to even out her breathing. "I'll be fine in a moment."
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