William pulled back, suddenly, his hand quickly withdrawing from Sergei's skin. Something had changed, but he couldn't pinpoint what -- had he seen it, or had it been something he'd felt? Birkin knew that his senses had changed quite a bit since the infection of the G virus, and he still hadn't gotten quite used to them in this form. He thought he felt something pulsing underneath Sergei's skin -- something interesting.
It would be nice, he thought, to have some information on the man. Medical charts, in the least. Hell, even just an idea of the man's blood type would be beneficial.
Stepping away from the table, Birkin looked around the room, pacing the floor. His movements were scattered and jumpy, his eyes darting around as he tried to get a feel for exactly what resources he had available to him.
It wasn't very much.
He needed to find a solution, and fast.. he'd just woken up, and soon he would be hungry. If he stayed trapped in this room, with someone so unable to defend themselves... he shuddered to think how easily the virus would get the better of him.
Turning back to the table, Birkin sighed, staring down at the man.
"Asking you to wake up isn't going to do any good, is it?" he said, quietly.