"Doc! You're back," smiled the fighter as Rip carried me into his cage.
We were still playing the game that I couldn't function on my own, but Rip made sure that I had at least one Reaver a week to snack on.
I hadn't gained any weight yet and still looked like a walking skeleton, however, inside of our little cabin, I was thriving.
"Maybe if you would stop getting hurt inside the pit, we wouldn't have to be here," grumbled Rip after I remained silent.
I hadn't looked at the fighter since the first time I had healed him; there was no point in knowing someone who was going to die soon.
Mind you, that military dude from before was still holding on, and he had been here almost as long as I had been.
Maybe I should learn his name.
Rip put my hand on the fighter, and I could feel my power flowing out of me and into him. It scanned his body as it concentrated on the injured areas. But, just as before, I didn't feel the pain associated with the healing.
