bite down on my winchester

She winces at the rasp of his voice, having expected the rich timbre she'd become accustomed to in their previous meetings. "Are you unwell?" she wonders, shifting to sit with him as he indicates that she can take the space beside him. He says he's okay, but she's more than practiced at reading it for what it is in her profession, offering little more than a warm smile and a nod of understanding. Besides, they're here to speak of other matters. "I'm afraid to say that I have," she murmurs, keeping her voice quiet even though there's no one around to overhear them. "I used to see it sometimes in soldiers, after they had returned from the battlefield. He seems very manic, very nervous. Is that the same as what you've noticed?" ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die