“Yeah,” Shiloh said, with a grimace of a smile. “You heard right. S’alright, though, I’m feeling okay! Alive anyway, and that feels pretty dandy.”
He grinned; joking made everything easier, even if it seemed inappropriate. He couldn’t move much, wrapped in bandages but he tried his best to wiggle his way up anyway, sitting up just enough that he could look at Quinn properly instead of awkwardly tilting his head. The only consolation to his predicament was that soon he’d be free of the infirmary and this whole fiasco, and he could go back to regular life, and throw himself into his work.
Sitting idle in the hospital bed had seemed pretty amazing when he’d first woken up, and he was still more than incredibly grateful for the mere fact that he could breathe again, that he was alive at all but in the end, sitting in a hospital bed all day was boring. Sleep covered a lot of it, as did visits from a certain Mist Hunter, but it wasn’t nearly enough to span every waking moment, to distract him from the thoughts that he didn’t want to sneaking it.
So jokes it was, jokes and laughter and none of that heavy stuff.
“Buck up, Quinnie, I’m alive, I’m alive,” he said teasingly at the man’s expression. “Don’t worry, I double checked.”
