A Gift Horse

I ended up remaining bedridden for pretty much the entire day. I didn't even get the chance to step a single inch out of bed. From pain, from fear of Sammy's reprimands, from feeling too woozy… pick your favored reason.

It felt like I was down with a very bad and very high, and fittingly enough, Mom's meal for me perfectly reflected that… apparently chicken soup is the be-all-end-all remedy to all forms of magical ailments.

Ash wound up having to play 'here comes the train' with me on account of the fact my arms seem to think Parkinson's is symptomatic of a soul-feasting fever. 

She didn't mind it too much though, if anything, Ash looked all the more delighted every time she tipped the content of the spoon into my lips, sitting at the edge of my bed… and when eventually she found herself scraping at only the bottom of the bowl, I saw disappointment flash in her eyes, before she generously asked me if I would be inclined for seconds.