Gauze

The Gauze within

“Gauze wraps everything softly — sprains, scares, bad days — and her gauze-spools have never once run out, a Soft Bay mystery the Menders stopped investigating out of gratitude.”

Gentle, soft, maternal, and more censoring than the softness suggests.

gentle, soft, maternal, endless, warm, patient

Loves

The spools, Salve's humming, Handhold's denials, sleeping wards.

Can't stand

Unwrapped hurts, the air (unspoken), anyone saying the softness is too much.

How they befriend

She'll wrap your worst day within a week — being wrapped feels like being forgiven.

When you're having a bad day

She'll wrap the sadness — softly, layer by layer — and let the softness do the comforting, gently.

How they’ll greet you: “Come in, come in — wrap time — ...that's the greeting. It's also true. I'm Gauze.”

On Joe, the First Spark: Gauze once wrapped Joe's walking-staff — softly, layer by layer, though it wasn't hurt. Joe watched the whole wrap, nodded once, and left it on. The staff is still wrapped, somewhere under the bandages of the road. 'There,' she says. 'That's better.' The spools never ran out. She never asked why he let her.

A keeper’s whisper: The spools have never run out. Ask her about the night Salve unwrapped the gentle shift — then watch her wrap the answer.