"Hm. I like turquoise. Whats your favorite food?" She turned on the lights and walked back over him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back slightly, crouching down so she could see his eyes in the light. He looked... drunk. All they could do was hope none of the Mist had really gotten a chance to enter his system. She grabbed his good hand and stood back up, guiding him to lay down on his back, fluffing up a pillow for his head. She sat on the bed, looking down at him with as even of an expression as she could. This very well could have been the last time he was really able to speak to her coherently.

He looked at her similarly to a tired child. "I don't have one," he said quietly as she moved him around. He lay the bandaged arm on his stomach and moved around a bit. He looked up at her, taking a deep breath. "I can't move my hand." He said in a distressed and shaky tone, he was quite fond of his right arm. He hadn't forgotten about the fact that he could be Misted. He was just trying not to think about that.

She bit her lip and looked down at him. "I know. Im sorry. But you'll regain usage of it." She gave him a sad little smile and squeezed his good hand gently, staring at their fingers. She swallowed. "I'm sorry." Her voice broke as she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his forehead gently, sitting back up and looking off at the door so she wouldn't have to see the pained expression on his face, her eyes welling up a bit with tears.

"It's not your fault," he mumbled reassuringly as she kissed his forehead. He squeezed her hand gently. Which was about all he could do. It was shaking just as much as the other one had, he didn't want her to know how scared he was and pulled it away, squeezing it into a fist and putting it by his side. He rolled over cautiously onto his side, his right arm rested on his side and his left hand by his face. He fell asleep quite quickly after that.

She sighed and shut off the lights, going out to sit on the porch. She sat there, sobbing quietly into her hands for about an hour before calming herself down and walking back inside. She crawled onto the other side of the bed and laid down, looking at him and then at his arm. She settled down and genuinely tried to go to sleep. For a while. In actuality, she ended up staying up the whole night, too anxious to sleep. She took the chance at first light to start making something with the rabbit, first dragging the corpse far out into the woods.

Luke awoke to silence, a nagging sting and ache in his arm. He hadn't moved at all in his sleep. He looked around, she was nowhere in sight. He had the disappointment of waking up to it not being a nightmare, a pit in his stomach as he remembered the events of last night. He winced, sitting up and swinging his feet out of the bed. He felt so weak it was kinda worrying him. The first thing he did after standing was fall over. He groaned, his arm throbbing even though he hadn't used it. He grabbed the bedframe and stood up slowly. He took a deep breath and cautiously walked to the door, the sunlight beaming in. He shaded his eyes and looked down at the stained grass. He looked away, grabbing the doorframe to keep himself on his feet.

She glanced over at him. "Luke!" She scrambled uo from where she had been crouching by the fire. "What are you doing?" She looked at his arm and sighed. "Are you okay? Do you want to go down by the fire?"

He blinked at her for a moment, still waking up. "I'm- why are you acting like I'm dying- I'm fine." He leaned on the doorframe, his right arm hanging. "I can walk to the fire just fine, I did get out of bed you know." He said sassily. "Just a bit dizzy." And weak.. He looked at his right hand, it was still shaking, and he still couldn't move his fingers. He winced and let it go limp again. "Were you up all night?"

She glared at him. "Yes, I was up all night, making sure you didn't get a fucking fever and that your arm didn't get infected. Excuse me for being concerned." She snapped, turning around and walking back down to the fire to tend to the rabbit.

"I didn't say I wasn't grateful." He mumbled, carefully moving off from the doorframe and making sure he wouldn't fall. He slipped down the steps relatively easily and walked to the fire. His right arm hugged to his ribs. He knelt down and leaned onto his three working limbs with his head drooping. His arm throbbing consistantly didn't help the dizziness.