The creature extends it’s leathery gray arm to grab for the offered bowl, but suddenly halts. For a moment its black, pupil-less eyes glaze over in what can only be described as complete dumbfounded surprise. During this time its hand hovers in the air, close enough for Eirin to fully make out the odd scarring.
Not a moment later, though, the arm continued onwards to grab the bowl from the slightly surprised Eirin. Her mysterious guest proceeded to drink eagerly and sloppily , as if he had never gone through, what can only be described as, a mental reboot.
Eirin pondered the strange marking. It was not unlike a alchemy circle, though missing finesse and any descriptive markings. Perhaps it was an emblem adopted by some place, or another form of identification. Her thoughts were placed aside, though, when she determined the slight shift in behavior in the pitiful being in front of her. “Now then, do you think that you could talk to me? I would appreciate some information.”
The doctor now has the creature’s full attention, yet the only response she received was a dumbfounded stare. If her guest’s black eyes allowed light to pass through them one could presumable see the rusty cogs in the back of it’s head, desperately attempting to spin like once before. Whatever it was that had taken him earlier seemed to hit him stronger now, though, as the hand grasping the bowl began to shake violently, spilling what little water remained on the wooden floor. He inhaled briefly while attempting not to stumble over and repeated what was only an old habit, an ancient mantra: “T-Thank…” was all he could muster before tipping over and ending up face down on the floor, showing no signs of getting up. As his body relaxed he lay there almost peaceful, fully stretched out and appearing much taller than he had while hunched. The night’s symphony of crickets was soon joined by a feint raspy snoring.