A Hand basket to Hell

His breath unsteady, pull himself together, breathe in and out. Close eyes. Breathe. Open eyes. Breathe. Watch Vesper... approach?

He could see her hesitance and her fleeting touch sent a confused fluttering static up his arm. She'll keep an eye out. Was she being... tender? His eyes danced between hers, trying to seek her intentions. The look in her eyes, deep under a mask of forced neutrality... She pitied him. They always did.

He nodded and shifted slowly to pull his paw back, her touch was already gone. The static wasn't as gripping or intense as when his family tried to console him when he was younger. He will not be pitied though, he'll be strong enough to carry them all through this. He'll find a cure with or without the other healers. It will be okay, He'll make sure of it.

"Off you go then." He commanded with a soft but determined tone. He turned away and walked to a table he intended to clean and make into a sterile environment for the samples she was to fetch.

"Speech"