Emberwood pestilence at its finest

evermore was never one for religious things. but if she could control or believe in anything, it was the hope that this girl would be rewarded for her kindness to her. the dying woman was always unsure of the kindness of others as she grew older, but she was glad to see that despite all of the hell the world put her through, there were still those who tended to the flock.

the question rings in her ear. 

"fought... a lady," her breathing is ragged but the woman slows herself to stay on topic, "days after, got sick." it lacked the details that the medical professional would need in order to make a proper diagnosis, although perhaps meadow has seen his before and already knows what it is.

damn her, that witch! another hacking cough, head turning away, now the woman finds herself crumbling to the ground. she lets herself crumble, legs soon tucking themselves beneath her.