Ava trails in his wake, staying near enough that she can easily move to help if Drake requires it, but not so close that she's underfoot. She busies herself checking on the lamps, the people nearby, the water supplies.

He's working, so she won't ask how he knew who had the concussion. But she suspects that healer isn't merely a profession, but some sort of gift, like her sight. And so she understands to allow time and space for things to unfold, to let him do what he needs to do without getting in the way.