[ alisaie has always been a terrible patient, as her friends and family would readily attest, more than once her brother has threatened to tie her to her sickbed in the past to keep her there.
so this is not easy. not only is this no simple illness, but the city has been attacked, she should be working, she should be helping, and sitting still while all of this is unfolding is like literal torture. alisaie does what she can from home, keeping an eye on the network and reading as much as her fevered mind will allow, researching, listening, but mostly waiting, and she has never been very good at waiting.
being housebound is even worse. sometimes it feels as if the walls are closing in on her, so when she can - those times when the fever abates enough that she can think clearly and take more than ten steps without wanting to die, alisaie goes outside. she can't go far, considering she's being watched like a hawk, and honestly much as she wants to she knows that she shouldn't risk spreading this disease around, even if it isn't airborne. in short, everything is miserable.
but this afternoon is cool and sunny, and she's feeling well enough to take her book on medicinal herbs out onto the shared deck of her upper-floor apartment, sitting on the wooden boards with a blanket around her shoulders and her book open across her lap. the simple feel of the breeze on her face is a treatment in its own right.
when lance comes trundling down the lane with his cart, however, apparently desperate to sell anything at all, she closes her book and leans over the edge of the deck, peering down toward him. ]
3 + rumor!!
so this is not easy. not only is this no simple illness, but the city has been attacked, she should be working, she should be helping, and sitting still while all of this is unfolding is like literal torture. alisaie does what she can from home, keeping an eye on the network and reading as much as her fevered mind will allow, researching, listening, but mostly waiting, and she has never been very good at waiting.
being housebound is even worse. sometimes it feels as if the walls are closing in on her, so when she can - those times when the fever abates enough that she can think clearly and take more than ten steps without wanting to die, alisaie goes outside. she can't go far, considering she's being watched like a hawk, and honestly much as she wants to she knows that she shouldn't risk spreading this disease around, even if it isn't airborne. in short, everything is miserable.
but this afternoon is cool and sunny, and she's feeling well enough to take her book on medicinal herbs out onto the shared deck of her upper-floor apartment, sitting on the wooden boards with a blanket around her shoulders and her book open across her lap. the simple feel of the breeze on her face is a treatment in its own right.
when lance comes trundling down the lane with his cart, however, apparently desperate to sell anything at all, she closes her book and leans over the edge of the deck, peering down toward him. ]
Do you have anything cold?