Flycatcher Downs Ring ring, the bartender please?

The woman's voice sounded like a death rattle, Sriracha feared that she was not long for this earth. Still, he saw it as his duty to do what he could, and so he spoke with her to find what her needs were. I see that now, he said cheerfully. But you must know, you are not well. Indeed she didn't sound well at all. When she spoke, it was nonsense. Well, not complete nonsense. He knew he bore a resemblance to a raccoon, if you were either very creative or very blind. In her delirium, perhaps she was correct. I am going to move you, he told her, not wishing to do anything without her consent. Or, at least he'd feel better if he'd at least asked first. Though not an accomplished healer, he was going to try to save her.