The seminar was a long one and he was not exactly thrilled to be there. He'd just finished his portion, thankfully the last, before he stepped away from the podium. The topic was psychology, which he had studied as part of his learning. He didn't want to talk about psychology; his wife had been dead for only three months now and working was just something his heart wasn't into right at the moment.

He shuffled his papers about and sat down heavily in a vacated chair, thinking about her and their unborn child and how unfair it was for her to have been murdered.

He would never get over her, he still wasn't ever over his first wife but she had been dead too for a long time. He wanted a son more than anything in the world and he was robbed of it both times by death.

Don looked, for all intents and purposes, worn out.

Tristan had made his contribution earlier: On the definition of madness, and how some madness might be brought on and exacerbated by society's tendency to treat it as such. He listened with interest to the contribution of the older doctor, and when the man sat down in front of him, Tristan reached out and touched his shoulder to get the man's attention. "Interesting contribution, doctor," he whispered. It had been. The content had been good, though the presentation had been, well... a bit off. As if the man was not fully there.

"Thank you," he said tiredly. He looked down at his papers and then shoved them into his briefcase for later. "Not my best work but I'd like to think I got the point across." His voice was gruff, heavy almost, as he spoke. He looked to the man who tapped him on the shoulder and then nodded. Other people were starting to get up and mingle. "This isn't exactly my area of expertise." He managed a half-smile, one that did not reach his eyes at all, which was strange given the laugh lines and such that wrinkled his face.

This man gave mixed signals. Perhaps he was the quiet type, who felt awkward in social settings. "Oh, you did very well indeed, then," he said. He got up as the others started to walk around. "What is your area of expertise then. Oh, I'm Tristan Wells, by he way." He held out his hand.

"I treat children more than anything, but I am not above treating others. I am Donald Witaker," he said. He had a bass voice, and even as he smiled a white-toothed smile that could charm the socks off of a lady, it didn't quite reach his eyes. Those eyes of his were easily identifiable as morose. He was definitely depressed and it didn't take a doctor to see that much. He took the offered hand for a shake.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said.

"Pleasure's mine," said Tristan, who couldn't help wondering at the older doctor. What tale of woe did he carry? Or was he overworked? "Do you have a practice in town?"

"I do. I've not been here long, but I have a practice to the west of the trainyard." He managed a smile and then nodded, "What about yourself?"

"Not been here long myself," Tristan answered. "Worked in an asylum near Leeds before. I just started my own practice up in Flowergate." He tended to be a little worried that other doctors might see him as unwelcome competition, but he didn't worry about this one. This man didn't seem to have enough life in him to be competitive.

"Ahh, yes, we need more good doctors about," he said with a half-hearted grin. "Good to know there is one in Flowergate," he said then and started compulsively shuffling his notes.

"Thank you," said Tristan, and he meant it. Being accepted and welcomed was not self-evident, especially not as a rivalling practitioner. But it seemed from what the man said that there was enough demand in town, though Tristan himself still struggled to get enough patients.

He watched the man shuffle through his notes and wondered if that was a hint that the conversation was over. But he did not want to leave without extending the hand of friendship and collegiality. Boy, could he use a network. "Well, it was good to meet you, Dr. Witaker. Please feel welcome to call at - Flowergate. I'd be glad to get to know my colleagues better."