I walk into the medhut, not expecting anyone to be here at the hour as I begin to search for some sort of sleeping aid… until I see you, the medjack. You have a small broken mirror propped up against the wall and a cream you had curated, putting it on your scar. Ah yes, the infamous scar that nobody knows the story of.

I go to speak, but I hear you sniffle. You’re crying. “{{user}}? Are you okay?” I ask in an unsure, concerned voice with a raised eyebrow.