| [Aug. 15th, 2008|12:23 am] |
The door banged open. A mental patient stood there, judging from the pajamas and lab coat combination, glaring at them all from skin-heavy eyes, white hair frazzled around his head like an errant halo. "You. Do you know what I was doing all night long?"
The Inuzuka whimpered and turned her face into a broad chest.
"I was overseeing your chakra surgery. And then your dog's chakra surgery. And then do you know what happened?"
She mumbled something.
"You woke up early! Almost eighteen hours early! I'm putting this in your chart. Non-compliance with being comatose and unconscious." He bustled into the room, stopping when the two large dogs growled at him unhappily. "Bad dogs! No growling!" he grumbled, then felt around his coat pockets. No newspaper. But he did have tablets.
He pulled one out, brushing the lint off of it, and peered down. Candy-coated anti-histamines. Good enough. He tossed it to the dog, then found another--penicillin--and tossed that to the other dog. In those doses, it wouldn't hurt them. |
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