"Don't need a healer," he says, jaw clenched as he fails to sit up straight, slumping back over in exhaustion and defeat. He hates this, hates this feeling. Feeling this way isn't acceptable.

"Need to get stronger, need to practice and it will go away," he sighs, simply running out of air as his head thumps onto the back of Little Apple's neck, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to gather himself together. He simply feels so, so ill.