"Where there are more sick people? How is that going to help?" It won't, he knows it won't. He's seen plague doctors and plague tents before- he knows that what goes in may be coughing and treatable and what comes out is a corpse for a single massive pyre at the end of the day.

No thank you.

He sits up, twisting his hair in a knot off the nape of his neck to help with the sweating and heat. It works to an extent. The water he sips little by little as he focuses on not falling back over onto the bed. He's fine. He'll be fine. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"