It’s been a week and your brain has slowly begun to ooze out your nostrils. You know you’re conscious, but it felt like the world had slipped into this lethargic dream.

You’re a zombie.

This hunger followed you like a pack of rabid hyenas, nipping at your ankles for you to move forward, despite the pain in your head.

You groan, reaching out to grab Simon’s arm, bringing your mouth up to it, drool slipping past your lips until he swatted you in the face.

“No biting.” He softly stated.