What we build is broken

He could feel his father fading gently, losing the energy to continue further. Ollie nodded sagely, with a sigh he gathered back within himself the need and drive to be the Trauma Specialist of the Armada. He sat up taller and became who he needed to be for others, as easily as if he had picked up a tincture.

As Mortis said his piece Oleander, the Trauma Specialist, looked at the larger winged wolf. A hard line creased his lips in response. Ollie is starting to understand what Mortis might be trying to get at. He didn't know if he agreed with him, but the mistreatment Vasper had at the hands of her old masters... That never should have happened. She should have had basic rights. They'll both have to grapple with the fallout of that now.
"I think I understand now. Thank you. Can I get you some more of that tincture I left you with last time? Did it help at all?" He asked, a stark white paw placed over his fathers.

"Speech"