bite down on my winchester

"Ouch," Isla murmurs sympathetically. "I'm glad to hear you're getting better. I'll do my best to keep this brief, and you can just nod or shake your head if it's easier than talking." And so it begins, the medic listening carefully as Sunjata explains. She keeps mental notes, not having thought to bring anything to write with, tapping her heel against the cliffside absently. "Is this recent, then?" she asks. "Or has he been like this before and gotten through it?" It's with a sad smile that she nods to him; there's no judgement, just an understanding that this is how it is for them. "Honestly, even if you did know how, I am not sure how far you'd get. I tried to ask about it, but he is quite skilled at deflecting away from it." Being a doctor himself probably helps, too. "I did invite him to the infirmary in the Hollowed Grounds for a couple of days, to help me at the clinic. I thought it might break the cycle of... whatever is feeding this." ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die