“Wotcha, Vega Jane?” he said, his voice weary but now filled with relief. I blurted out wildly, “Where am I? Hospital? The Care? The Hallowed Ground?” He touched my forehead as though to test for its warmth. “You jargoled?” “Where, Delph?” I persisted. “Your digs.” I looked around and saw that this was so. “How did I get here?” “Carried you.” “I remember hitting something really hard.” “Spot on, that was me you hit.”
PFFT
