Losses

You allow the nurse to help you put the robe on. It is warm and comfortable, but your clothes are no where in sight nor is your beloved sword, Argentum. You also are lacking your trump deck.

You believe that you remember everything about yourself, but there are certainly gaps in your memory as you're still unsure as to how you got here or what you were doing here in the first place. You have no memory of the wound, much less the battle in which you received it.

As the nurse helps you (or, as you allow her to help you, for you're in no need of assistance any longer) into the hallway, you note electric fixtures, but they seem to not be working but there are gas lamps and candles, a few of which are burning. You glimpse other patients, through some doorways, all of them seem to be less than ambulatory. You're of the conviction that you are certainly luckier than most who are being treated here.

Given the smell of gunpowder on the breeze, you're sure that you're in a shadow closer to that of Earth, though certainly there are few bipedal felines living there.

The building is large, but very utilitarian, wood and stucco throughout. You note feline-laden crucifixes on certain walls, as well as small portraits of a female cat creature in a blue robe, with some form of halo about her. This strikes you as humorous, but your growling stomach causes any amusement to be quickly stifled.

As you descend a small flight of stairs you enter a dark room with several tables. Lit candles sit on the tables providing light. A few feline men, in various forms of bandaging sit and attempt to eat. Some lap liquids in bowls on the tables. Far on the other side of the room a uniformed cat stands by a door. The cat is armed with what is clearly a single-shot rifle.

The nurse helps you to a table and then departs. As you look about you realize that everyone in the room is looking at you. Some openly, others try to hide their interest but fail after a moment or two.

A couple of patients in the far corner of the room seem to be whispering intently about you, since they keep looking your direction as they speak. The nurse returns and places a bowl in front of you and a glass of what appears to be milk next to it. The odor of fish is quite strong, and nearly turns your stomach, however your hunger overwhelms your gag reflex and you nearly inhale the food. The nurse giggles at the speed at which you engorge... you quickly hold the bowl out to her and say simply, "More."

She nods and takes the bowl, heading back toward what you assume is the kitchen. In the meanwhile you swallow the glass of milk.