Please, Don't Be The End

Sam got up too quickly, had to sit still for a moment as his head spun with pain and nausea; maybe the upgrade wasn't always so great after all. But still, he forced himself up on his unsure legs and took Isla up on the offer of leaning on her. He had never been a loud person but he nodded his agreement to be quiet. As they walked over to the room which held Remi, Sam wasn't sure what to expect. Would he be as normal, just with some scars? Would he be a bloody mess? Would he look pallid, close to death? He braced himself for every possibility. When he did see Remi, it was...both a relief and an anti-climax. He wasn't looking well, but with a blanket over him and his wounds cleaned, he was hardly a gorey monster. "H..has he said anything yet? A..about me, maybe?" Sam asked Isla, worried Remi had been cursing his name as soon as he was able. SAMUEL How could a night so frozen Be so scalding hot? How can a morning this mild Be so raw?