First Aid will pour some tea for Eddie as well, offering him the thermos's cup once he's set down the baskets and sat down himself. The work is quiet and soothing, taking up a huge chunk of his processing power with the necessity of handling each egg gently, neither firmly enough to crack it nor so cautiously that it slips out between his fingers. It's like surgery, only without the risk of hurting someone he knows, and Eddie's company is as quiet and calming as he'd hoped for.

First Aid is really enjoying himself when he hums quietly and asks, "How have things been out here? Is Thietmar having any other issues?" He'd sprained his ankle, as First Aid recalls; he'd sent him home with a boot and a prescription for Sally's pharmacy, and instructions to do light work only for at least a week. He hopes he's been sticking to that.