"Of course I'd come. I wouldn't miss it for the world." The scent of blood is strong, and Herbert hates himself to his very core that he finds the smell appetizing, of all things. That he craves it. What sort of monster is he, that he can think of his hunger at a time like this?

Solin coughs and Herbert rubs slow circles over his back, hoping to ease the cough a little. "Tell me how to help?"