Yesterday, 4:03 PM
Skill: Herbalist
A grunt was all he was given, he supposed that was better than nothing and why was he complaining anyway. It wasn't like he was a avid talker and his answer was usually in grunts. He just couldn't be bothered. A kindred spirit perhaps.
Artok had almost not lived. He remembered the pain and the fever that had burned him and the constant running. Had Scarlett not cared for him. Well he'd be long gone. He knew this.
Oh Artok was a basterd, but not of that she wolf's man. He didn't even know who his father had been.
I know enough to know what to take and what can kill me. Yarrow sometimes. Poppy sometimes, but that's addictive that one. Be careful with it. Hot springs help too.