Blackfeather Woods and there is time to kill today

The poppies had become something of a necessity with this one. He almost didn't notice the tremble in his limbs as he stood there, and certainly hadn't noticed the sluggish quality of his gait as he'd sought Maegi out. When she turned to regard him, he looked at her with a dull expression, and opened his mouth as if to speak—temporarily forgetting that he couldn't—and went so far as to say, Ghost, which came out sounding more like goad, not that he noticed. Mou was lethargic about the entire thing, finding his current situation as unremarkable as the last—with him, there was always something wrong, and he had become accustomed to the heavy hand of fate.

He peered beyond her for a long minute, and gradually came back to himself. Enough, anyways, to ask about the shrine and the tiny offering. Wha dah? He motioned with a lazy dip of his nose at the mouse and looked as if he were about to bowl forwards, but didn't. Clearly Mou was still under the heavy influence of his medicine.