R O N I N
[This fulfils Ronin's obligation to have his next thread be with a healer.]
Everything felt muddled, and Ronin could relate. He'd been alright, sort of, getting away from the Spire. His shoulder stung like a bitch and it was bleeding profusely, but he hadn't been nearly disembowelled so he still considered Roana a more urgent case. Something he pointed out to those at the infirmary when they arrived, which probably didn't help his own case in the long run. He still felt muzzy and dizzy and altogether not good, but he put it down to what had happened.
Then, of course, they got a good look at his shoulder, and hoo-boy he was in trouble. So much trouble, in fact, that he didn't even realise it any more. By the time Roana awoke he would be very much on the opposite end of consciousness, prone in the cot next to hers (the curtain had been drawn back at Ronin's insistence - he didn't like the idea of being in a box). He was deathly pale beneath the flush of fever, shirtless with a heavy bandage covering his shoulder. At the sound of his fellow soldier's voice, however, he groaned and stirred ever so slightly, opening bloodshot eyes to peer dazedly around the place. Hey... he mumbled to her.
