The human female is well-supplied with convalescent things to do, activities and amusements which do not require her to stir, limping, from her nest. Her “To Be Read” pile is towering and wobbly enough that I fear it may fall over crush someone. I’ve had to keep a wary eye on Sigyn, since she is wont to examine the titles and see if there’s anything she’d like to read as well.
Today the human female is engrossed in a novel. Hey, you! Isn’t it time for some medicine or something? Or a shower? You are looking more than usually unkempt. You go work on that and I will save your place.