"Perhaps if you cannot sleep you could help, I know you brought back some dragonhide, I wondered if some of it could be worked soft enough, or if their claws or teeth could be used for decoration." Korrin's seen her scrimshaw dice after all, carefully handed down from her father and carved from the bones of a whale long long ago. Used with respect and love so that it still gets to live on somehow.

Nodding, she eases them both down to the ground, remaining upright herself though bent at the waist, hands on her knees as she takes a few deep breaths. "I hope the healers find out whatever this is soon Korrin, a sickness can be treated when it's a real sickness, but how do you treat it when it's magic?"