[Fenton ducked inside immediately, to get out of the cold rain.] Ahhh, thanks, Drakearoonie. It's raining cats and...
[He trails off, eyes growing wide as Drake's words and state of being finally register to him. Dropping his suitcase and bag on the floor, he immediately goes into mother-hen-mode, and ushers Drake towards the couch.] Go sit down! Get comfy! You should be resting in that condition! When did it even hit you? [Drake hadn't looked sick before... Maybe it was one of those 24-hour-flu things that came up on you quickly, or something.] Where are your blankets? I'll go grab one. Wrap yourself up in it. You're in luck! I just picked up the perfect thing when I was out! Hot chicken noodle soup is the best thing for the common cold! You just stay there and get comfy, I'll have that soup whipped up for you in 10 minutes! ... Well, whisked up, not whipped. You don't whip soup. I'll be right back!
[And with that, Fenton dashed off, first grabbing his shopping bag to take it into the kitchen. Drake would be able to hear the cabinet doors opening and closing, as Fenton was looking for a pot, soup bowl and spoons. Then he was rushing upstairs, only to come back downstairs in the next second, poking his head back into the frontroom.] Where do you keep your blankets again? Got a favourite?
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Date: 2019-10-01 08:13 am (UTC)[He trails off, eyes growing wide as Drake's words and state of being finally register to him. Dropping his suitcase and bag on the floor, he immediately goes into mother-hen-mode, and ushers Drake towards the couch.] Go sit down! Get comfy! You should be resting in that condition! When did it even hit you? [Drake hadn't looked sick before... Maybe it was one of those 24-hour-flu things that came up on you quickly, or something.] Where are your blankets? I'll go grab one. Wrap yourself up in it. You're in luck! I just picked up the perfect thing when I was out! Hot chicken noodle soup is the best thing for the common cold! You just stay there and get comfy, I'll have that soup whipped up for you in 10 minutes! ... Well, whisked up, not whipped. You don't whip soup. I'll be right back!
[And with that, Fenton dashed off, first grabbing his shopping bag to take it into the kitchen. Drake would be able to hear the cabinet doors opening and closing, as Fenton was looking for a pot, soup bowl and spoons. Then he was rushing upstairs, only to come back downstairs in the next second, poking his head back into the frontroom.] Where do you keep your blankets again? Got a favourite?