malpractice is still worth healing points

Wake's treehouse was really coming together. The boy was proud of it, and proud of himself. Must be all the help he'd been to Dread when he was putting his together! He'd keep telling himself that, regardless of any actual truth in the statement. Of course Dread liked having his help, and of course Wake had done a great job. Really, any frustration or annoyance from the older man was well concealed.

Unluckily for Dread, that's a recipe for the boy to come pester him. Wake was finally feeling better-- well and truly better, now that they were somewhere dry. Feeling better enough to well and truly be a pest. Today? Well, today he's decided that the literal only one who can help him with his treehouse is Dread. Wake got into a fight with some shelves, and the shelves won.

A little blood trickling slowly from an abrasion on his head and a splinter in his paw causing him to limp (construction site injuries, what a tough boy!), he makes his way to the treehouse Dread shared with his sister. Standing at the bottom and craning his head back, Wake yells up the stairs. "Dread! Dread can you come help me with somethin'?" Only nominally better than storming straight in, but hey, it's something.

WAKE UP