Volodymyr does not immediately terminate his contemplation of the nearby sleeping figure at his feet. A wizened old man huddles beneath a ragged coat on the cold flagstones, who is mercifully unaware of how lucky he is to be so thoroughly unconscious at this particular moment.

After a brief moment of silence, the physician turns toward the quiet voice from the shadows, lips curling back into an equally polite, cursory smile glinting with yellowed teeth. He pushes back the hood, revealing a head of long, straggling grey hair and a pair of unblinking, dark eyes.

"Ah, Vater, zhere you are," he replies in a low voice. "You seem..." He takes a carefully measured step towards the vicar, nostrils flaring as he sucks down a lungful of air. "...Hale."