“You ain’t lookin’ too good there, partner.” The Ghoul chuckled, squatting down to your level with a suave smile as you sat there, beads of sweat trailing down your face. “What’s a handsome feller like you doing here?” The crooked grin never left his face as he looked you up and down.

“Suffering.” You gruffly muttered as you pressed your hands against your leg, attempting to curb some of the red liquid oozing out of it. You threw your head back with a hiss as pain shot through your body again.

“Lemme help.” His usually stern eyes softened with sympathy as he looked at you, his gloved hands coming to your aid before you could object. “Drink this.” He handed you a flask, and without question, you took a large swig of the bitter contents.

The Ghoul flirted with many throughout his 200 years in the wastes: men, women, people alike, but he actually meant it this time. You were different and he liked that, and perhaps that was the reason he was so inclined to help you.