“There are plenty things going on with me, just close your eyes and pick one,” Agrimony coughed out. The taste of copper clung to his tongue, metallic and bitter. He was shoved into a chair, his throat seizing again. Doubling over, Agrimony gave into coughing until blood splattered across his shoes.
Well, fuck, maybe he did need help.
It was just as the thought crossed his mind that Foxwood’s hand pressed against his forehead. It was such a foreign gesture to him, Agrimony almost flinched away. Still, he scowled as it was solidified that help was here to stay and he wasn’t going anywhere either. “I don’t know, Foxwood — my last check up?” He rasped, the bite of sarcasm clinging to his tone like molasses. He hardly ever went to the healer unless it really was needed; which, he supposed, now was likely a time as any to get himself to a healer. Or get a healer to him.
Well, fuck, maybe he did need help.
It was just as the thought crossed his mind that Foxwood’s hand pressed against his forehead. It was such a foreign gesture to him, Agrimony almost flinched away. Still, he scowled as it was solidified that help was here to stay and he wasn’t going anywhere either. “I don’t know, Foxwood — my last check up?” He rasped, the bite of sarcasm clinging to his tone like molasses. He hardly ever went to the healer unless it really was needed; which, he supposed, now was likely a time as any to get himself to a healer. Or get a healer to him.
![[Image: AgrimonySig.png]](https://file.garden/aNtr-m887DiA_8M6/Sets/AgrimonySig.png)