[ The mosquito buzzes off having taken a meal from them both; Lucilius regards it placidly before it disappears as a speck on the wind. Were the effects immediate? They'd see soon enough, he supposes. ]

One of my legs suddenly ceased function. The other joined it a few minutes after.

[ No injury, no clumsiness. He can't even shift them properly to test if anything had broken in his eventual fall. The last thing he'd felt was a telling itch, and then nothing. ]

...I wouldn't put it above a pest to carry some sort of contagion. [ So, yes, he did get got. ]