Herbalists' Cache Was scream “Please don’t call 9-1-1!”

He spoke—!

Another peculiar speech pattern, though she was not as slow to pick up on his as she was the previous woman. He stated his only ailment to be grief, something she could not catch. Her ears sank back briefly and she lowered her gaze. “Oh...,” she said softly, catching herself before the that’s good could slip out and exchanging it with a louder, “I’m sorry,” instead. For both her accusation of illness and his loss, whatever it may be.

“Do you not have anyone with you?” she asked next. Personally, Kovette could not imagine being both grief-stricken and alone at the same time, and assumed him to have someone nearby. And if he doesn’t...? With the thought, she suddenly felt awkward—she wasn’t sure what to do in this situation, whether it be to stay and console the stranger or make a quick getaway. Somehow, both seemed equally as rude, the more she thought about it.