*Bleargh* Trezlan couldn't figure what it was. Something was dying inside of him. Every time he'd eat, or drink, or just exist he'd be vomitting. SiC had him examined and said it was some kind of food illness not related to what the machines fed him. Trezlan scoffed at this, but only between vomiting spells. He had discovered every bathroom on the ship and had come to prefer a few of them over the others. The robots for their part made sure he was comfortable when he'd collapse in his own vomit somewhere.
Still stomach illness was no fun for the Lorentino. Though the fresh voices of the fire god would probably exchanged places with him based on their current predicament.
No comments:
Post a Comment