Dr. Swamp
ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββLocation: Shadowell Manor: Sewing Room (2F)
Skills: Constitution
Hit Points: 2
ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ
That was a highly interesting song that the Chanteuse was gracing him with. Haunting, yet so endearingly comical somehow. It stood to both focus and amuse Dr. Swamp to such a degree that, upon commencing the stitching portion of his evening, he found it amazingly tolerable. Moreso than this, he felt great. So much better than just moments ago. Damage was still done, but he felt more whole and full of vigor than he had in a while.
"You... certainly have the touch, Amaranthine," complimented the Doctor. "I could not have done a better piece of work with it, myself, and I have been doing this for a bit of time." He could feel the beginnings of shock flowing out of his body and uncoupling from his mind. Be it the song or the delicate hand guiding the needle, Swamp felt better. "If you ever feel the need to dabble in medical pursuits, please consider my tutelage. I daresay you have a much better bedside manner."
Now yhe matter of dressing himself. His shirt was ruined, obviously. If a solution was not made apparent soon, he would have to inquire. This was a sewing room, after all. But not necessary right this second. For now, he merely craned his neck to admire Amaranthine's handiwork.