A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

The garbled noises around her began to form coherent words and Sparrow directed her attention- although still glassy eyed- towards their speaker.  Artisan was there, saying he had gotten the man's ear. Sparrow perked as much as she could in her current state and surely if she had any energy left, she'd be clapping a paw around his shoulders. "Ughn," she muttered in approval. It was meant to be a 'fuck yeah,' but Sparrow wasn't entirely there yet. "Sew that bitch on- Friar?"

The monkey, who was no worse for wear and was instead frantically scribbling the scene out to later put into a play, looked up with a small chirp. Sew? He could do that. He was spry on his feet and went to Sparrow's room to pull out some thread and a nice needle of sorts. He wandered over to Artisan and held his tiny hand out. Put the ear back on. Ok. He looked to Eden, who was also heading the healing things. This was a different ear, but still an ear. Put ear on ear. Sew ear on ear. Ok. Ok. Friar could do. Would Eden let him do?

Sparrow blearily listened to Eden, even as she half choked on the water the woman offered. She asked where it hurt most and Sparrow let her head fall back to the ground with a groan, "Who knowsssss, just fix everything."