(no subject)

D'Artagnan went upstairs after the awful duel with the Englishman, Bar gave him some bandages that he took. It wasn't normal to feel this cold and his shirt would need to be sewn up once more. In the room provided though it didn't look right, he had a painful hot bath where he scrubbed that traitorous mud off of himself and bandaged his cuts as he could see the bruises appearing on his face.

Sleep didn't come easily, because he ached and thoughts went through his mind of other fights, he didn't even recall of them. Also this illness he had didn't seem to be improving and he tossed and turned through the night trying to find a comfortable way to sleep, he would be his best when he went to Paris.