"Hey, Grimalkin, are you still awake?" I whisper.

"I am." Grimalkin pours.

"Okay, okay, okay." I turn.

"What is it Goodfellow?" Grimalkin says.

"Nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all." I say.

"I know you better than that." Grimalkin says.

"That's funny cat." I chuckle.

"Goodfellow, no one expects you to recover in only a few hours." Grimalkin says.

"Recover? What do you mean?" I look at him surprised.

"You had to kill your own family." Grimalkin says.

"So?" I raise an eyebrow.

"You feel nothing?" Grimalkin whisker's raise.

"Would you?" I ask.

"I'm asking you Goodfellow." Grimalkin points out. 

"It's nothing. I'm fine." I hiss.

I feel my broken arm. 

"A cat always knows." Grimalkin says.

"About how many flees are on its body?" I ask.

He turns. Is he... right? Hate to admit or even agree in the slightest degree, but I have the sinking suspicion I am lying through my teeth. I grip my burning chest. The wounds still hurt like fire. The wounds ache and I feel like... I feel like.... I feel like something is corroding within me. It's hard to explain, but I don't want to explain it either. 

"You can smirk all you want Goodfellow, but I know you." Grimalkin asks.

Okay, this cat is really getting under my skin. I sit up. I look at him.

"Oh really? Me smirking? Never. I am curious though feline furry, what to do you think I'm doing?" I ask.

"You really are stubborn." Grimalkin sighs.

"Damn right I am." I say.

I lean back onto the bed. 

"You can try to ignore this as much as you can- I pray it won't eat you alive." Grimalkin says.

"Yeah, good talk kitty, very eye opening." I pull the blanket up.