"Jeanne, are you guys okay? What happened?" I asked as I hopped over to her, careful not to step on an orc's unconscious body.
"Sorry for not coming yesterday! I'm fine, but..." Jeanne answered with a worried tone as she averted her eyes somewhere to her left. Her face looked so tired, judging by the dark circles under her eyes and her pale lips. What happened while they were gone?
"Don't be sorry, it was something unexpected, you handled it well, whatever it was." I patted her back reassuringly so she could calm down a little.
"I-- Uh, over there, Firiell is not okay..." Jeanne stuttered as she pointed towards the direction she was looking at, and I followed her gaze.
"Wha--!"
There, on a rusty and old clinic bed, laid a very thin child, unconscious and unmoving. What alerted me more, though, was the IV line that was connecting her wrist to some kind of collecting bag that was already halfway full with dark red blood.
