The blood you bleed Is just the blood you owe

Her brow furrowed and her gaze drifted about the space. She kept thinking of what he was trying to tell her or show her... Perhaps he was sorry for her leg... Perhaps he wanted her true yes and was working to earn it from her? Funny... Would she truly give it? She didn't know. He poured the cup and held it aloft, proclaiming to his hope that it would be the last time he would coddle her. She couldn't help but blink and subtly smile with some amusement. Was he playing a joke? The tea isn't really an instant cure all silly man. Maybe he'll learn not to break his toys if he still wanted to use them.

She shook her head as she took the cup, blowing off the steam and taking a sip. Strange, had one of her herbs turned sour? No, that's not normally the mold taste. She took another sip, now trying to parse what wasn't right with the mixture. She had watched him gather some of the ingredients... had he mistook one for another? No, she could taste the horsetail and the St. John's wort... The boneset maybe? She took another sip, it wasn't terrible it was just not what she was expecting. Maybe... when she gathered these herbs... they were growing... somewhere...
in...
a place...
that...
effected their...
... taste?
She was nodding off... Her thoughts were sluggish, she must not be done sleeping...

Her paw fell to the bed, the last two sips of the tea spilled to the floor and she slumped back, unable to keep her eyes open.

"speech"