Emotional Wreck Part One

London: I sat at the dining table, glaring disinterestedly at the cuisine lined up in front of me. It's been three weeks since the attack Hayes had wedged on my territory, and I wasn't healing as fast as I usually did. My body had taken a great deal of damage, and Fuyu had ended up slumping once he was certain that the entirety of his army was gone and our people were safe enough. I had sustained a broken arm that had almost been ripped from my body and multiple holes as a result of those assholes digging into my skin. I had scratches all over my body—a mark that ran across my face, from my forehead, past my nose, grazing my left cheek slightly. I had a few broken ribs and a broken leg. I could barely cough without wheezing at the fucking pain or coughing up blood. Indeed, I looked like a wreck, with bandages wrapped almost everywhere. I haven't been able to contact Fuyu since then, and it worried me because he really pushed himself past his limits. I had a lot of questions to ask him