[East Sentinel Survival Base]
By noon, the health center that catered to the ordinary survivors' needs had quieted down to its usual, steady rhythm. Aside from the employees, only a few patients were left.
At this hour, the sun had risen to the summit, its rays filtering through the patched windows. Fine dust motes drifted lazily in the air.
Madam Huang sat on a low wooden stool inside a small treatment room. The scent of fresh leaves and earth lingered in the air.
As she leaned forward to tend to a little boy sitting across from her, her knees protested faintly. She ignored the dull ache that came from old age.
"Hold still, boy," she said kindly, scooping some crushed herbal paste from a jar. "It'll sting a bit, but only for a moment."
The boy scrunched up his face when the elderly lady applied the paste to the scrape on his knee. His countenance eased when the pain faded into cooling numbness.
