Carlos felt unsettled by that, for some reason. He frowned and he drew his gaze toward the horizon where the moon was, indeed, starting to peek through the dark and dirty clouds. Just looking at it he felt sick and fatigued.
Carlos stood up from his spot by the fire. “I’m gonna turn in,” he mumbled. Though he didn’t think anyone else would care – hardly anyone knew anybody in this hastily put-together caravan of theirs. He grabbed his packs and carried it with him toward one of the buildings they had set up next to – it was a half-destroyed house, where the back end of it had collapsed into the ravine behind it.
With every step, the sickness seemed to grow and make him a little antsy, and he felt like his skin was crawling and just incredibly itchy. He hoped a good night’s rest would help him relax and feel better.
Violet had been telling stories with some of the caravaners she had agreed to help–not having much else to do after leaving the Capital Wastes, and not wanting to get into any huge adventures for some time after dealing with the Enclave–when she heard Carlos’s mumbling.
It seemed sudden, and she wondered if he was okay. She quickly excuses herself, following after him.
“Hey, are you okay?” she questions, falling into step with him.
Carlos looked up as the young woman approached. What was her name? Viola? They’d introduced themselves, but he was terrible with names. Also, did she approach him that loudly on purpose?
“Uh, well… yeah,” Carlos started to say. But he decided he should probably tell the truth. “Um, well… I’m feeling kind of… off. I need to turn in so… hopefully I can just sleep whatever it is off. You shouldn’t worry about me – I’m fine.” He offered her a slight smile, which he hoped would ease her mind
The Perfect Scientist 