Can't...cough...sleep...

When I was younger, I always used to fret. I envied the old men and women of my hometown who spent their days puttering about, enjoying life.

Now all I can do is sit here and talk. And even that tires me out. I'm like an overripe, rotting fruit, still desperately clinging onto the tree of life....

Gah. Where's the use in telling you, eh? You'll never know how this feels, Daeva. You are one of the blessed few, and I...I am not.