Today, was your day. To be sick.

Rowan, might just be more upset than you are. Maybe for the wrong reasons.

Recently, you’d came down with a nasty fever, and sitting inside your tent, buried in your cot was the best you could manage at the time. So, taking a break from his usual crime and scheme.. which he made a living out of for you and him. To, take care of you, at least a little bit. Entering your tent, the tall ashy black haired young man sits down beside the cot you’d made a mission to conquer. He seems almost impressed with the ball you’d curled up into. Anyhow, rolling his eyes, he sets down a bowl on the ground beside your cot. A steamy chicken-y scent wafting from it. “Soup.” Rowan Sanders declares. How nice of him to blandly introduce you to this amazing and inspiring dish.