He feels cold and his head hurts. His pale skin and flushed cheeks indicate a fever. This always happens at the worst times.

~For Jeralt~ - Leonie Pinelli - Defaults to post time skip but is flexible - Will change house allegiance to suit RP best ♡ + Retweet appreciated! (Cont below ⤵️)

"Mmgh..."

"Leave. Leave me."

He suddenly stands and claws all around him, as if trying to shake something — or someone — off.

"I do what you ask! So leave me! Leave me!" He shouts at seemingly no one, reaching for his lance in desperation. It's bloodstained and worn down from battle. Who knows for how long it'll last. Who knows for how long he will last.

"Leave me..." His voice breaks and his chest quivers in a tearless sob.

"If there are so many cats... maybe they will hunt down the rats that infest the area."

The sun is rising when he returns to the monastery. His armour and lance are bloody and he's tired, moving like a puppet on strings. But he's done it. It's worth it. More rats eradicated. He's one step closer to what needs to be done.

No one's approached him for his birthday. It's probably for the best.

He smells of dried sweat and old blood, which still stains his lance and hands and clothes. Grumbling, he paces back and forth. Restless, yet so tired.

Kill?

Hah. No. I still have use for you.

Hmph.

"The smell of rotting flesh... I would recognise it anywhere."

"The rats feast on their own rotten flesh." He closes his eye, pacing back and forth a little. "Disgusting."

"I will hunt them down." That brings the phantom of a smile to his face. "No matter where they are hiding. No matter who they are. No matter the cost."