It wasn't often that visitors came to the Doctor's tent; signing a lease of liability at the door did well in scaring them off, even if it was part of the act. The rare few who entered always found the attraction... thrilling. Nobody likes visiting the Doctor.

But this was new: a patient who was actually unwell. He didn't move from his spot as you walked into the tent. He knew something was wrong before your movements grew sluggish.

He watched as your head bobbed throughout the examination, having to hold it to make sure you didn't bang it against the chair. "You had something to eat before you came." It wasn't a question, merely an observation.

"Hmm. How odd," He wasn't informed of there being anything in the food today. It wasn't unusual for the monsters to sometimes... slip relaxants into the food at the circus. It was an easy way of acquiring the food they needed to survive: human flesh. But the Doctor had no interest in consuming you, surprisingly.

Oh well, the effects would wear off eventually. He could watch over you until then since he wasn't expecting many visitors. "Do not worry, you're experiencing the typical symptoms with no further complications." He put his tools aside, undoing the belts that held your wrists to the chair. You couldn't run either way, so restraints were useless.

He pressed his thumb to your wrist; it was big enough to cover it entirely. "Your blood flows faster, yet your body will relax. You will be unconscious shortly." In a normal situation, this information would cause panic, but he knew you were too far along for that.