The man was rambling.<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #BF80FF">"What does it mean, 'you aren't authorized to receive medical treatment'?"</span></span>Then she grasped a sort of grim understanding. With their world in shambles as it was, they were probably short on all kinds of resources, including medicine. So they must have started some kind of system where they determined who was worthy of receiving these resources and who wasn't. This place, already, was more than she'd hoped for. The tragic stories of this planet could not only mark it a protected territory, but save future primitive societies from the same misfortune. All she needed was the story of an exceptionally unfortunate person. The starving human, begging that they kill him to spare themselves, moments after they saved him from a terminal illness for which he wasn't allowed to receive treatment, was a perfect candidate. At the realization, her whole body buzzed, and flushed with the fluorescent violet of her blood. In this instant, the others seemed to guess what she was thinking.<br/><br/>Rhofel started,<span style="color: #BF80FF"><span style="font-style: italic">"Uriel--"</span></span><br/><br/><span style="color: #BF80FF"><span style="font-style: italic">"But he's perfect, isn't he?"</span></span>she interrupted, standing and fetching some water for the man.<span style="color: #BF80FF"><span style="font-style: italic">"Requesting death after being given life is quite selfish,"</span></span>she said to the man as she handed him the cup.<span style="color: #BF80FF"><span style="font-style: italic">"What is your name, human?"</span></span>