Medicine...and quarantine.

The apothicary is in when you arrive at a run and out of breath. The panther in question listens to your garbled account of what you found at Mrs. Annabelle's home and immediately grabs up a cloth to wrap it around her muzzle in a makeshift mask. You look on in confusion.

"Just a precaution," she says, "it's unlikely you've been infected, but best not to take chances. I know the disease and while a bad one, you did all the right things. There's no known cure but so long as you can keep her hydrated and fed, she'll be able to sweat it out. Do you honestly want to help her?"

"Yes," you say immediately.

"Good," says the apothicary, "then this is what you do."

She begins to explain as she throws together a medicinal mixture. You are to stay with Mrs. Annabelle for at least two weeks, both as caretaker and as a means of quarantine. Neither of you are to leave the farmstead during that time. You are to give her the medicinal mixture regularly and make sure she is eating and drinking. After that, the apothicary looks mildly uncomfortable, but then soldiers on with professional detatchment.

"You should be warned that this disease may cause some...disorientation," she tells you, "Should Mrs. Annabelle become...how shall I put this...much more friendly than usual...much more affectionate than is normal, you must not take it amiss. It is best to just accept this and not become embarassed by it."

You're not entirely sure what is meant, but you'd agree to anything at this point. Medicinal mixture in hand, you sprint back to Mrs. Annabelle's homestead and return to where she still lay in near delerium. You get to work right away and as soon as you've fed her the medicine, her eyes seem to clear just enough.

"There now," you say, a little relieved, "When is the last time you've eaten?"

"Last...night," she murmurs.

"Then you'll need food," you tell her, "don't get up, just leave everything to me."

You suddenly feel her large warm hand surounding yours, her eyes meeting yours with an expression you've not seen before.

"Thank you, sweet one," she says in barely a whisper, "you have always been there for me."

"I will be for the next two weeks," you tell her, "we're kind of under quarantine, but we seem to have all the supplies we need for that time. So you just rest and recover and I'll see to the rest."

All this time, she has not let go of your hand, keeping you close to her, seeming not to want to let you go.