cat scratch fever

Although it was late at night, the wolverine could only hope that someone would be out. If not, he'd be resorted to leaving the den and searching for a medic. Thankfully, it wouldn't seem like that would be the case. At the sight of the female and raccoon, the wolverine chattered away as he got their attention. He waved his arms about, scurrying inside and over towards Grimshaw. Motioning to him, he looked back to make sure they had followed him inside.

Slipping in and out of consciously, or what he considered sleep, Grimshaw groaned at the noises of the animal moving around and chattering. Stirring, he reached for the pack that contained the bottle of alcohol he'd been taking generous sips of. With his back turned towards the entrance of his den, he was otherwise unaware of what was happening around him. Grasping the bottle, he brought it sloppily to his lips to drink the remaining drops of the liquid and finishing it off with a hiccup as he dropped the bottle.

"Speech."