Bramblepoint yesterworld

When Raven turned, the fungal residue that lingered upon her chops was the first thing to catch Rannoch's attention, and he wondered what she had gotten herself into. From the context clues that were scattered at her feet, the Iota easily deducted that she had not ingested any prey. But, if it wasn't prey, what was it? The question lingered on the tip of his tongue as he listened to what she had to say in regards to her wellbeing. 

As Rannoch opened his mouth to reply to what had been said, he was met with a ginormous sneeze that startled him. Out of instinct, his head jerked sharply away from the blow. The feeling that followed this motion was uncomfortable. It felt as though the tender knot of flesh at his gullet had torn and in the wake of the re-opening of the injury, the scar flared with a pain he recognized almost instantly. Gritting his teeth, the Iota flattened his ears and looked to his company pitifully. Unbeknowest to the yearling, and visibly to the medic,  blood began to fill the creases and slowly trickle down his pale chest. 

Despite his pain, Rannoch uncomfortably forced out an answer for the sake of being courteous, "Y-Yeah, I think we've met."