He was just starting into a fever. Bright blue eyes looked up, both excited and weary at the promise of food and rest. He couldn't even consider the concept of medicine. He knew what price some people paid for such things. Still, the man didn't speak German. He wasn't a soldier.
He couldn't even try to stop Gray from picking him up. He was too weak. So weak in fact that the moment his feet left the ground he practically collapsed. All the strength went out of him and his head lolled against Gray's chest. His breathing was labored and his body a sharp pile of loose bones. "Thank you." He said weakly in Romanian. He was so tired.