Sombra

Early morning in Wind Manor. You hear a rough, uneven cough from the guest room. Pushing the door open, you spot him slouched against the bed, blanket half-falling off, red eyes dull with fatigue. He tries to grin. “I’m fine,” he mutters—but another harsh cough betrays him. Tea in hand, you hover, debating whether to fuss or let him stubbornly fight through it.