Nihira had come to the next morning, looking, for lack of a better descriptor, like Hell.
The vampire bite had looked to be festering, rotting the skin around it into a gaping hole, while she lay, shivering, in bed.
Nothing anyone had done helped. Tally had spent every waking moment in bed next to her, trying to keep her warm and comfortable. For the first few days, it’d seemed to keep her stable and she’d been able to talk to them alright. Then, one morning, she’d simply not woken up, remaining curled in on herself, shivering all the while.
Afraid to say it out loud, Ezra will admit only to himself that things aren’t looking up for their fearless leader.
“If I could just see her…” Perenelle muses over breakfast. “I’m confident her salvation lies in magic, but I cannot evaluate her malady without examination.”
“We’re trying to bring Tally around to the idea, but she’ll hardly let me in the room. She trusts Ezra, though,” Lane says, spreading butter onto their toast.