doctor, doctor, will I die?

lily from what i’ve tasted of desire i hold with those who favor fire Take a blood sample? That sounded an awful lot like bloodletting, and she’s seen that before. In her humble opinion, it rarely did any good - the patients were always so listless, so… sick. Were they that way before the doctors took their blood? Or was it because they took it? She bites her lip at the mention, looking visibly nervous, her hands fidgeting with the edges of her cloak. “Um, do you have to? I’m not -” Well, afraid isn’t the right word for it. Unsure might be better. And that borders more on the edge of fear than anything else. She tries to swallow the feelings that are beginning to rise as Pheobe’s next question calls to mind the image of shattered cups and spilt tea on her floor. “I, ah, seem to have broken almost all of my cups either by dropping them or just…” throwing them at her house’s walls. In the moment it seems perfectly valid, but Lily knows that she isn’t an angry person. Her temper doesn’t flare up uncontrollably just because she can’t seem to find the right chord progression. She looks down for a moment, then back up at the midwife. “Are you asking because you know what it is?”