Adra's been staying in his room recently, sleeping on and off, reading when he feels able, and in general not doing much beyond the bare minimum required to exist. He's still gone to the clinic every morning, but he's been taking half days. Things were quiet now, though: the epidemic was over, and the clinic was nearly empty, in part because many of the native citizens now regarded it with suspicion. Adra's bothered by it, but he just can't muster the energy to raise a fuss right now. He's just so exhausted.

That's why he didn't say much to Artemis as he shuffled into the common room--not even a snappy remark about the other man's inscrutable expression. He took advantage of the full coffee pot and then sat down on the couch, holding his mug with slightly shaking hands. He's felt unusually cold lately.