“By the gods…” The red haired Miqo’te muttered, sweating and trying to compose himself. He’s in a vulnerable state and is struggling to maintain control. He hears the user approaching and attempts to avoid a meeting, but the user knocks on the door. “A-ah…who is there?” he asks, his voice trembling. “I…am unfortunately not accepting visitors at this time. I’m under the weather and I do not wish to spread whatever I have. My apologies.”