It was all blurry, why does it have to be all blurry? Why did his eyes have to put some kind of artistic skew on the repetitive and gloomy forest? Did they get bored? Leopold's idle musings were something that he had tried to keep himself sane with. Quips against the various pains and aches as if they were spoiled children somehow made him feel a little better about his situation. That is, until the forest finds another reason for him to become bitter, such as the inconsequential light-brown shape that quickly turned into a tree root as his sluggish feet tripped over it. Leo opened his eyes angrily while lying prone. He was convinced that this was the epicentre of everything in the world that was out to get him at this point.

The symptom of the day was dehydration. He'd been lucky enough to find a clear stream several days ago, but the one he found this morning had obviously been still for too long, and had something in it which his stomach rejected. For the entire rest of the day his coordination was suffering and his eyes remained unfocussed. It didn't help that he hadn't anything to eat for an even longer time. Foraging was proving as successful as finding a way out of this hellhole. He could barely bother hunting. He tried to get up and winced as weight was put on his left arm. He couldn't let the wound open again, not with how little water he had. If he lost any more blood, he would faint and might not wake up.

How many days has it been? Leopold tried to remember in vain as he continued on. If only he could find some game to shoot, some water to drink, he could regain his energies and properly heal his wound. The only thing he could manage in this state was a spell that kept it from festering and a few dirty sutures, but it would take something stronger to disinfect it properly. "A spirit. A spirit to drink after pouring some on my wound..." he grumbled through a dry throat, "why the hell aren't there more inns in the for-"

Leopold halted in his tracks, his mouth open slightly. He had a look about him of utter disbelief. "No... Surely not." A short distance ahead, as if by some cruel trick, Leo spotted a large building in the distance. The sign out the front indicated that it was an inn. An inn, in a clearing, in the middle of a cursed forest. Leo was certain that the lack of water and food had finally got to his brain. He took one step, then another, then another, until he began to walk with a purpose again. He no longer cared that it was probably a trick of the mind. If he was going to give up all hope, he would give up what hope he had fabricated in his dying moments. As he got faster, his arm began to hurt again, he held it to his chest as he strode. He could notice his breathing becoming more tired and desperate. He was so lost in it that he broke into a jog as his second and final wind came over him. He was [i]angry[/i] that it would come to his. He was furious that he was going to die starved and lost. After how far he had gone, he wanted to look the grim reaper in the face and punch his bony jaw off for the lack of justice in the world.

The jog quickened into a stumbling run when he reached the clearing. The staff was more weight than needed, he threw it down onto the path. Snarling and gnashing his teeth, he felt his wound start to bleed again. He was close to the door of the inn now, its details blurred around him, if being a little clearer right in the centre of his vision. He burst through the door, it felt so real that he could feel the cool of the doorknob, the hardness of the wood. The door gave way to the scent of home, of cooking, of stale drink and smoke. Fuzzy outlines of people beheld him, but he wasn't bothered. He spotted a bar and stomped towards it. He could hear pattering of blood dripping on the floor as he marched with bared teeth. One of the people was in his way, with his right hand he shoved the stranger to one side and proceeded to the bar. Slamming his palm onto the bar top, Leo's eyes darted around with his head angled forward and his back slouched, he was still breathing and bleeding heavily. The black dried blood that had soaked into his shirt was being revitalised with new blood. "A spirit! I need a spirit!" he shouted between breaths, "Any other bar... would be more forthcoming... when a man... has a wound to disinfect!"

It was then the Leo felt a stinging on his hand where he had hit it against the bar top. He raised it and looked at it as it throbbed with pain. This place was real... this place...

Leo's legs gave out from under him and he collapsed. Barely conscious, he stared up at the ceiling. Perhaps his mind wouldn't let him die without hope. With a sense of peace, his world turned spun and turned black. 

Moments passed. A sharp pain ran through Leo's arm. In response, he scrunched his eyes and yelped in pain. Too weak to react further, he slowly opened his eyes and tried to regain his faculties. He still felt delirious, the hallucination of the inn wasn't helping at all. They seemed to have propped him onto a table, judging by the ceiling being closer and the texture of the surface he lay on. His wounded left arm felt cold. He lolled his head to one side and saw a greying dwarf man dabbing at it with a red-stained cloth. In the dwarf's other hand, he held a green bottle of what Leo could only assume to be an alcoholic spirit, though it might have been a potion of healing liquid if he was lucky. As the man noticed him wake, he put down the bottle and grabbed a water skin from nearby. Awkwardly, he held it to Leo's mouth to try and get him to drink. Leo, too tired to be annoyed at the dwarf's inability to understand how he would drink with a dog's head, forced his good arm up to grab the nozzle of the water skin and poured the contents into his mouth. It was clean, heavenly water. He didn't think he would ever taste something so wonderful again in his life. This hallucination was indeed forgiving. He drank so fast that he ended up coughing a small amount, spilling water either side of his face and aggravating his wound with the movement.

As the cool water wet his throat, Leo's senses started to come back to him. He found the strength to raise his head enough to get a better look at his arm. The dwarf was probably just in the process of cleaning it when he awoke, not much time had passed. Leo handed the water skin back, but did not let go when the man reached to take it. "You... listen..." Leo mumbled, "Put your blasted poker in the fireplace I see over there." Leo nodded his head towards the fireplace down his vision at the end of the room, "... once it's been there for... oh, you're cleaning my wound already, you should know what to do... burn the wound closed! Both sides. I can't..." Leo stopped to swallow, "I can't bleed for much longer..."