[Aeryn's not easily impressed. Not by the unfamiliar especially, but this-- despite the location-- is the smooth, metallic glint of machinery that feels closer to home than most anything she's seen on this planet so far. Here, in private, resting down to sit on the hood of his car, Aeryn lets her guard ease up just a touch.]

It's an infection-- an irregular one. Keeps my body from managing its own temperature.

Give it long enough and it'll go beyond anything tolerable.