I think I'm about to die. When Potlid came to see me a few days ago, I was unable to stand up unassisted, the way I still could just a month ago. I couldn't even smile; my cheeks felt stiff. I couldn't move them. Just enduring the pain without being destroyed by it took all the strength I had left. Potlid told me that she just received a big batch of fresh fowlbeast meat. We agreed that she would make a big batch of fresh fowlbeast soup and bring it to me today, and that I must drink every drop. How I wish I could believe, as she does, that this will restore my health. Yet, the stinging in my throat from the Originium was a constant reminder that I might not even be able to swallow the soup as I promised. Luckily, my mind is still clear. This morning I begged the medical operator on duty to give me enough painkillers to dull my pain, at least temporarily. I couldn't let Potlid discover that my body is failing me. After all, every patient who eats her food always gets better, if only gradually. I heard footsteps, different from those of the medical staff, light and cheerful. It was Potlid. 'Today I made you fowlbeast soup! I used plenty of Yanese spices I was saving for a rainy day. Anyway, you promised you'd drink every last drop, right?' Potlid smiled with narrowed eyes, just like the first time she met me. 'Of course. When have I ever broken a promise to you, Potlid... er, Warmy?' I took the bowl brimming with soup from her hands and tried to drink it all in one go. The broth was as delicious as ever, but it struck against the lump in my throat. The pain and itching were unbearable. I quickly set the bowl down and coughed a few times. 'Did you burn yourself?! Next time I'll let it cool longer.' *Cough cough* 'Burn myself? Of course not. It's just that your soup is so rich and delicious that it caught in my throat.' Seeing her smile return, I could not help but feel stirred. Bracing myself against the edge of the bed, I climbed down. 'Just look at me. All that homemade food must've worked. I feel better already. I might even be running around by the next time you stop by.' I smiled and gently refused Potlid's offer to support me as I walked. She nodded thoughtfully, glancing at the many gift boxes scattered about the ward. 'How many people came to visit you these last few days? They brought so many presents.' 'Mm, well... seeing how I'm nearly recovered and about to leave Rhodes Island... They must've decided to give me a few souvenirs, that's all.' I chuckled to myself, proud of my ability to explain away my deathbed gifts. Flawlessly done. That night, as I laid down and closed my eyes, I felt a momentary peace, rare for an Infected. I know I'm not alone. I still have a little Cautus to care for... But I can't forget to remind my friends never to tell Warmy of my death. 'Lanns, don't tell the others I came here to visit him.' 'Potlid...' 'When the ladies in the Medical Department told me his illness was 'almost over', I knew what they meant...' At dusk, in a cemetery somewhere in Rim Billiton, the rain moistens the white petals.