Westheid had been waiting for just this moment. Upon seeing the Pure Holy Spirit's strange state, he immediately connected the dots.
He comforted the childlike Pure Holy Spirit, patting her back and speaking softly,
"There, there. I'm here now. Where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere. I didn't even feel this bad when the Chaos Army was ravaging the Purity Forest."
The Pure Holy Spirit snuggled deeper into Westheid's embrace, letting out a soft whimper.
"I just feel... I feel all sticky, like I can't get clean no matter how much I wash. My head is groggy, and my chest feels so tight."
The White-haired Holy Spirit grabbed Westheid's arm, her expression heart-wrenchingly pitiful.
"I want cuddles."
"Alright, cuddles, cuddles."
Westheid pressed his cheek against the White-haired Holy Spirit's delicate, flawless skin, transferring his warmth to the impossibly cold Holy Spirit.
"It feels a little better in West's arms... I'm so sleepy."
