Ravensblood Forest we have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin

She'd done some tending, but not enough. Not her fault -- he had avoided her, only letting her do the bare minimum. When they reached Ravensblood Forest, he'd pulled away altogether. And now, Vercingetorix was alone, his wounds had festered, and he lay in a fevered stupor.

What, he grumbled flatly, lifting his head against the blinding headache to spot her coming. His eyes were sticky with mucous, heat rippling over and all through his burly frame. His gaze flickered to the greenery, then moved away. Oh.

Verx supposed it was for the best, that she come to him. He wasn't in the mood to exchange many words, but he did require some medical attention. The injuries themselves wouldn't kill him, but the infection, if left untreated, certainly would. Not that he cared. He kind of welcomed death, at this point, and would have gladly succumbed if not for Drago and Isi.