It takes a long time for Wade to reach the door. He's not really left his bed or the couch much in the last few days. It takes a great deal of effort to haul his carcass to the door and then actually open the door with fingers that don't seem to want to work right.

He's looking like death walking. The scars after always there, on every inch of his body from the head downward. But beyond that, his eyes are sunken and skin clammy.

"It's that a staff? That's... so cool. [He'd be more exuberantly enthusiastic if it weren't taking everything he had to stay on his feet.]