Well, that's unexpected and alarming. Whatever reservations she might have about Spike, she doesn't enjoy seeing him in pain. Sunshine rushes forward, though not quickly enough to stop him from dropping to the floor, and crouches beside him. "What's wrong?" she asks, cautiously putting a hand on his shoulder. Is it the sunlight? But there's only a vague stirring of her affinity when she touches him - whatever's happening, it's not something her magic can fix. "Spike?"
The bee lands on the closest chair. She doesn't know how she knows this, because it's happening behind her, but she just knows. A quiet, unfamiliar voice says, "Oh, damn. He doesn't look good."
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The bee lands on the closest chair. She doesn't know how she knows this, because it's happening behind her, but she just knows. A quiet, unfamiliar voice says, "Oh, damn. He doesn't look good."