It had been a long day. Zephyr had woken up with a dull ache in their hips that only got worse as they rolled out of bed and began with their day. They had reluctantly gotten their cane halfway through the day since, despire their insistance, walking caused more pain than they wanted to admit. They had powered through band practice, ignoring the pain that was growing in their back and the sharp ache that shot through their hands whenever they had to stretch their fingers over the keys. The others seemed unaware of their silent struggles, and even decided to practice a bit longer after Papa had left.

Eventually, though, the music faded and the ghouls were left sitting around together in the music room, chatting. Zephyr sat back against the couch they were sitting on with a sigh, massaging a cramping hand with the other, equally sore hand. Their eyes were closed and they let out a small sigh when the pain began to gradually recede, when they felt a dip in the couch beside them.

"Hey. You doing okay?" They opened their eyes to see you sitting next to them on the couch.

"Yeah. I'm good." They mumbled. They were in fact not good, but they would rather die than say that to one of their packmate's faces.