>Foxglove speaking< How are your wounds? Do you need anything?

techiehux:

“Hi, F-Foxglove!” Techie looked up from the greenhouse’s rows of crops, stopping to wipe at his nose and managing to get dirt on his face. Months of working amongst nature with his new gang had given his cheeks a rosy glow, and he’d even managed to put on enough weight to form a little pouch over his tummy, no longer skin and bones.
“I’m d-doing a lot better. I owe you my l-life,” he smiled.

Techie tried very hard to focus on anything other than what she was going to do with all those medical tools. It made him uneasy to remember the cold, unyielding metal under his back as he’d screamed and screamed for help all the while… Nobody had come.

“Th-they’re good to me, Foxglove. Really!” He pauses for a moment too long after reassuring her of this fact. Damn. He’d given himself away. With a grimace and a sigh, Techie admits, “Well, I do get some trouble. B-But only a little, nothing to worry about!” Is he trying to convince Foxglove or himself? It’s unclear even to him.

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