Overture Downs [m] chicken soup for the soulless

Being a big dumb man, Glaukos saw the way she quaked and moaned her words, and presumed something had gone wrong with his less than stellar medical skill. She hadn't felt warm exactly, so it wasn't a true fever. The wound didn't appear to be bothering her. She was watching him intently, like he should somehow understand.

Need me? Nobody had ever phrased it like that before. He wasn't needed, he only took orders as a good soldier should. He thought to check her wound again and moved to her hip, to the flesh there. What do you need me to do? Tell me. Maybe she was just hungry.