Avangard: Hgh sails and High peril.: Tinker Toy Blues.

The infirmary, a place most people avoided unless necessary, became Cyril's unintended sanctuary. Cooped up in a bed for half a day, he had drifted in and out of consciousness since being brought aboard. The ordeal had left him dazed and battered, the air feeling noticeably thinner due to the concussive blows suffered during the turbulent ship incident.

Efforts to communicate with the nurses or seek the assistance of a doctor proved futile. Cyril's words were slurred, and his attempts at conversation were hindered by shakes and muscular spasms that occurred at unpredictable intervals. Frustration set in, leading Cyril to abandon his inquiries about his current location until he regained some semblance of strength and coherence. The infirmary, typically a place of healing, became an unwelcome and isolating environment for Cyril as he awaited recovery.

However, the momentary peace drifted as Cyril had turned his gaze at the sound of a falling tin can. His gaze fixed upon a poignant scene unfolding before him – a small child and her mother.

"Mum! Lil’ Tim fell," the child whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. "I-I think he's broken."

Reassuringly, the mother comforted her distressed child, saying, "Oh, little one, it'll be alright. Today, we get to leave the infirmary to visit Father. We can take a trip to the market on our way to get a new one." Cyril's eyes caught sight of the small tinker toy at their feet.

"No, Mum! Lil' Tim's my friend!" The child, fickle in her emotions, was cradled into her mother's arms as the two of them departed the infirmary.

A market on a ship? Cyril mused to himself. Despite the resistance he encountered during his attempts to get up in the past, he knew the wisdom in patiently waiting for the doctor's approval before venturing out. His gaze shifted to the small, broken tinker toy a few beds away – a sorry sight for the once-cheerful companion. The child's devastation at the toy's state lingered in Cyril's thoughts.

Despite the aching bruises beneath the wrapped bandages, Cyril slowly eased himself out of the bed. The impact of being slammed against the side of the ship had taken a toll, making it tempting to succumb to the comfort of the infirmary bed until a complete recovery. Yet, driven by a subtle determination,

Back on his feet once again, Cyril relished the sensation of having something solid beneath him after the tumultuous events that had transpired. Despite the lingering shakiness in his body, he approached the scattered remains of the small tin toy with cautious steps. The need for silence guided his movements, mindful not to walk too loudly, as the ship's crew previously ushered him to his bed on prior times he attempted to get up.

The looming threat of a straightjacket wasn't particularly appealing, so Cyril gingerly retrieved the small broken toy and silently made his way back to the bedside, careful not to attract unnecessary attention. 

Cyril pulled the attached board from the frame of his bed, converting it into a makeshift counter. Carefully placing the tiny toy soldier on this impromptu workspace, he examined the little painted uniform, noticing the signs of thorough play and wear. Undeterred, Cyril retrieved his tools and set to work.

The confined space of the infirmary transformed into a temporary workshop, with Cyril delicately repairing the broken pieces of the toy soldier. As he worked, he couldn't help but ponder the toy's make as he eyed the details in the small, worn uniform – a testament to the countless adventures it had embarked upon in the hands of its young owner. Cyril's meticulous efforts breathed new life into the tinker toy, 

The creaking of the doctor's office door echoed through the infirmary as it swung open, revealing a figure with a pair of glasses featuring different magnifying ranges. The figure, accompanied by a large man with a mechanical arm and impressive musculature, directed their attention towards Cyril.

"Cyril, the Doctor will see you now," the figure announced.

The muscular man approached Cyril and offered a hand, which Cyril accepted, though he clutched something small and balled up in his other hand. "Thanks," Cyril expressed his gratitude as he was assisted by the muscular companion into the doctor's office.

Before stepping through the door, Cyril discreetly left something on an unoccupied and messy bed. The doors closed behind him, 

... ... ...

 his visit to the doctor felt like hours yet finally, Cyril was granted dismissal from the infirmary. Gathering his belongings and dressing appropriately, he walked out the door. Before leaving, he couldn't help but notice a small sick child playing with her little toy, her face lit up with a wide smile. Cyril offered her a small nod of acknowledgment before making his way out onto the deck of the ship, ready to embrace the open air and finally start getting answers to where he was.