going steady + selby

Selby must have escaped his line of vision whilst he initially entered, for when the feline languidly converged on Leroy's position, the general was met with momentary surprise. "Uhh- hullo, Selby," he responds in a lethargic tone of voice. The canine ponders on the sawbones' blunt query for a brief allotment of time. How had his day gone, again? He was too damn tired to remember.  "I guess," he resumes, his maw expanding into a heavy yawn, "I guess ya could say it was a bit rough, yeah." There wasn't a specific task that had caused him a lot of grief today - though, today's workload felt more demanding than usual. Thus, his bones did not ache, nor did his muscles feel pain, but his body was enveloped in a cloak of incredible fatigue.

"Maybe a drink of sum'n," he suggests quickly, in response to the healer's generous offer. That throat of his felt rather parched, so some water, lemonade, or whatever beverages the household possessed would do the trick. "Err, thanks in advance."