Swamped

"Rider did seem interested in you for some reason," you say. "Can't say I know more than that."

Marshall's face turns pale.

"Rider? As in, the Rider of the Swamp?"

"That's the one. So they do speak the name even in the cities, then. Yes, the Rider, the most fearsome warrior in this whole swamp, so named for charging into battle on the back of a bright green swamp beast. That's the officer who told me to capture you and make it look like a standard supply raid."

Their eyes light up as you mention the swamp beast.

"So the swamp beast is real? Not just a rumor?"

"Well, I don't know what people have said about it, but I've had to feed it a few times and I can tell you, it smells real enough. Not very friendly though, damned if I know how Rider keeps it under control."

You have no idea why this kid is so interested in a stupid swamp beast, but that's not really your business. You've done what you can - and just in time, judging by the footsteps you hear approaching. Probably the medic.

"Wasn't your leg hurting?"

"Oh. Right."

You watch on as Marshall makes a show of their leg being in pain and gets carried off by the medic. Well, something interesting happened today, at least.

---

You're Marshall again, and you're in the infirmary. Again.

"Well, I can't see any obvious injuries in your leg, so it's probably nothing major. Just some pain that will pass by on its own. Though I have to say, two visits in as many days is a bit much. You should probably try to be more careful with yourself."

You nod weakly.

"I guess I just don't quite have the hang of this place," you admit.

"I understand you've been rather quiet, too. You just stayed in your room when you arrived, and you haven't really talked with anyone. Is everything all right?"

How should you answer him?