he has to keep reminding himself that it’s only been a few hours since they hooked the operative up to the machines that beepbeep away in the background, that it’s only been two hours since he sat himself in the chair at the foot of clover’s bed. only that long since he turned his scroll off in order to stare daggers at the heart rate monitors slowly read off numbers that mean nothing to the corvid. he’ll later deny the rush to sit upright at the shift from clover’s form in the bed, and the rush to stand by his side as mint hues slowly blink open. “nice’ve y’ ta join us--y’--y’ took tha’ hit pretty hard back there--” / @uglyanswer gets a thing