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 Posted: Tue Sep 22, 2009 8:03 pm
Ixiara was rubbing Ghinath down with a soft cloth in their cot. She had found that after oiling if she gave the green a gentle rub it helped give her hide a lustier sheen than just the brush would. Normally she enjoyed the task; it was a wonderful way to be close to her dragon without worrying about being bothered, Ghinath loved it, and it had a calming effect on their minds. There was something about manual labor that forced Ixiara's mind to close out troublesome thoughts and only pay attention to what her hands were doing. An itchy spot; rub a little harder. An extra little twirl to bring out a highlight here, scratch gently with fingernails there. Don't forget the eye ridges and, oh, Ghinath was closing her eyes: that was always a good sign. Today, though, Ixiara had just been too tired to derive much pleasure from oiling her dragon. The past few days she had simply put it down to lack of sleep and stress over current events, but that didn't seem to be the case anymore. She had slept for over twelve hours the previous night, Ixiara had been mortified when she woke and found out what time it was, and yet she felt as exhausted as if she had been filling firestone sacks all night. Not only that, upon awakening she had found that her sleeping furs were a jumbled, tangled mess and smelled like dried sweat. Ghinath had been the one to wake her; she said that she was worried because Ixiara was crying in her sleep. Now, with her eyes drooping and with feverish chills traveling up and down her spine, Ixiara thought she knew what was coming. Oiling Ghinath had been like a long therapy session; both of them steeling themselves for what they each knew had to happen.
They won't take care of me properly, I know it. None of them know when I'm hungry, or how to oil me properly, or how to place my bucket so the water reflects the right way, or how to scratch my head, Ghinath said, whining unhappily and shoving her head between Ixiara's arm and her side. She knew she was rambling but she was too upset to care. I belong with you, I love you. She murmured softly, nuzzling closer to her human. I love you... Ghinath wrapped her neck around Ixiara from behind, allowing the girl to cradle and hug her head.
I love you, too. More than anything, Ixiara said. We can't avoid it, though. If I stay now I'll be putting the others at risk: I'll be putting you at risk. They'll take care of me, don't worry. I'll come back to you. She hugged Ghinath's head closer to her, murmuring her words aloud, "I'll come back to you, dear heart. I promise."
The long, cold, solitary walk to the quarantined apartments was almost more than Ixiara could bear.
---------
M'leck was breathing hard, cursing the fact that he was so out of breath. He paused frequently to lean against solid objects for support, not daring to take too long on his breaks but unable to keep going without them. High up in his weyr Jekheth trilled and mumbled constantly with worry, ordered firmly away by M'leck who understood the risks of what was happening. Alreth was in an even worse state, bugling his distress loudly to the entire weyr. Zavir, Diantha, Shivvy and Lumeth swirled over M'leck's head, encouraging him. And he needed it, for with every step the weight of his friend on his back grew heavier and harder to bear.
M'leck and N'mar had been talking down by the lake, both of them had mentioned feeling tired and M'leck had a slight cough. They had been discussing whether their symptoms pointed to the illness going around or not. The matter had been decided absolutely when N'mar had turned around to leave for a late breakfast and had collapsed face first into the snow. M'leck knew that he was exposed and already showing signs of infection, so he had not dared to call anyone else for help. The healers and their help were stretched thin enough as it was; there were several patients in terrible condition who needed constant attention. M'leck had decided to take charge and bring N'mar to the quarantined infirmary himself, since he would have to go there anyway. He leaned against the hallway's wall, breathing heavily through his mouth, hearing his breath rattle. Shards, but this set on fast! Only fifteen minutes ago he had been fine! Reaching the door and walking past the rope barriers M'leck sent his fair of lizards away, telling them to stay with Jekheth. He did not know if Zavir would obey him as well, but he gave the same order to the little brown. Once past the doorway he managed a low "Healer..." before falling to his knees and letting N'mar sink down to the floor. He coughed rapidly, covering his mouth with one hand and holding his stomach with the other.
Jekheth threw his head back and creeled.
((Sick people post here. We can all be miserable together xp
EDIT: Randieh said telepathic talking won't get you sick, so if someone has a friend with a dragon they should be able to talk during their more lucid moments. ))
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Posted: Wed Sep 23, 2009 2:43 pm
She was scared. How could this happen? The words of an old nanny floated back into her mind. "If you're afraid that it can happen, it will happen."
Capna coughed.
Minno hugged the bundled of clothes she had wrapped him in. He was fine yesterday. Then this morning she was woken by her dragon, who told her that the brown flit was coughing too much. Tertiath deduced that he had snuck out to the kitchens for a free bite, and must've touch someone or something infected. The dragon would've ask the flit herself, but he looked to be in too much pain that she didn't want to.
It was a little hard breathing through the cloth covering her mouth and nose, but for Tertiath's sake, she didn't want to breathe it in where she was going.
Luckily there had been a healer walking by the roped off area. Minno handed Capna over, thinking loving and soothing thoughts for the firelizard. But as the healer walked away, she saw a few other healers carrying some people away on stretchers. Turning quickly back to the barracks, she began to cry. After she had a bath and washed her clothes and furs, she'd curl up with Tertiath for comfort.
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Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2009 1:23 pm
B'ron
B'ron had left the bar the previous night with a pounding headache and more nausea than he could bear. He attributed it to the fierce drinking he had been doing that night but this assumption was made out of fear. He knew; Hath knew. Hath quietly let his rider sleep, however fitfully, that night and did not question B'ron's avoidance of him. He did not question B'ron when the brownrider forcefully ordered Gar away with a message for his sister, and when B'ron, between coughs, asked Hath if he would be okay alone for a few days, Hath said yes.
Both of them acted as if the separation would be short. Neither acknowledged the horrible reality of what was happening, preferring to have one last, peaceful night. So B'ron slept, and in the morning prepared for his quarantine as best he could, coughing all the while. The man shaved and bathed, all of it a dreadful task as his weak muscles refused to even respond without the utmost effort. B'ron leaned mentally on Hath for support and somehow finished his morning ministrations, dressing in a loose tunic and leggings.
Hath .. B'ron said quietly to the brown, even his mental tone sorrowful.
Go. You must. I love you, Mine. I will be only a thought away. Hath replied to His, and stopped himself from creeling pitifully as B'ron walked away.
---
Now the brownrider lay in a cot in the quarantine. There were several rooms set up for the purpose, each with two cots. He was miserable. The coughing had not abated, each wracking burst of air making his raw throat flame. He lay still, with his eyes closed, though he was full conscious. He was drenched in sweat, yet his teeth chattered from the chills running throughout his body. He could feel Hath's presence, and took an immeasurable amount of comfort from it. He could not see his roommate, and perhaps he did not even wish to see them. He didn't wish to see anything. He wanted his world to fade to black for the present, so he could avoid it all.
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Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2009 3:16 pm
Ixiara had been one of the lucky ones at first. Her fever had been mild and when she started coughing it had been little more than a polite puff into her hand. The healers had been very kind to her, she was relieved to discover, and for a few days all she had tried to do was rest and keep up her strength. They had placed her in an otherwise unoccupied room, reasoning that if she wasn't too sick yet they didn't want to expose her further. It was lonely, but she kept up her mind link with Ghinath and did her best to encourage the green hatchling. Ixiara hadn't felt much like eating, but she knew it was important so she did her best.
Within a few days, though, she had gotten much worse. Her fever had shot through the roof overnight, bringing her case from low priority to high in a heartbeat. It had become so difficult for her to form a coherant thought that she had stopped using words to talk with Ghinath; if she communicated at all it was with vague concepts and feelings. From the first time she brought her food back up it had become harder and harder for her to sleep, but she couldn't stay awake - she was so tired. On her back it was easier for her to breathe, but her coughing had worn her throat so raw and worn out her stomach muscles so much that no matter what position she took it hurt. Time ceased to have any meaning, everything was a vague blur of nausea, pain, extreme cold and heat - broken only by occasional sensations of water flowing over and around her, soothing and comforting her. Ghinath... dear, wonderful, beautiful Ghinath...
Ixiara had almost been grateful the first time she fainted.
This particular day had not been so bad. She had heard, definately heard, the healers bringing in a new patient to share her room. Ixiara couldn't quite summon the energy to be curious, she was too relieved at being able to breathe without coughing for a short while. Her fever was still fluctuating, making her want to cling to and throw off the sleeping furs and blankets at alternate times. With great effort she made herself roll her head over to look at the new person, needing something to focus her mind on to keep it off of her aches and changing tempratures. Her vision blurred slightly as she tried to focus it, but there was something about the color of that blonde-looking blur that tweaked in her memory. Ghinath was alseep, finally - the poor dear - so Ixiara couldn't ask her. Frowning and squinting her eyes she tried and failed to focus. It was only when he coughed that she realized with a terrible jolt that wracked her entire body who it was.
"B'ron?" She croaked weakly, her voice was hoarse from coughing and lack of use, hoping beyond all hope that the man would prove her wrong and say he was someone else, or that he wouldn't hear her and she would be spared finding out.
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Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2009 3:48 pm
Ralia leaned against the wall, using it's solidness to support herself. Goodness knows she would never have managed it herself. Her hand flew to her mouth as another violent coughing fit hit her. She refused to accept what was happening here. It would not happen. Not to her and certainly not to Amenth. She felt the light brush against her mind. Feather light, barely noticeable, but noticeable all the same. I know you are awake, Love.
You are not well. A quiet voice stated, simply stated. It had been a whisper, as though saying it made the horrid realisation true.
I'll be fine. Ralia said with a strong voice.
You are not well! Amenth bit back. Others may have allowed Ralia to deny what was wrong with her, but Amenth would not have Ralia lie to her.
They weren't even in the same room and Amenth knew. Ralia looked over at her bed, the furs lay in a crumpled heap where she'd found herself lying this morning. Resting in the middle was Remmeck, he was getting weaker. He was sleeping fitfully and every now and again a tremor would run through his body. She hadn't had the heart to quarantine him and separate him from everyone. She was confident that he had been the source of her illness but held no contempt toward him. She had been the one to keep him with her, she'd known there was a sizable risk to herself. A weak smile flit across her lips as she slipped down the wall to rest on the floor. They had sectioned her off to stop her getting sick yet had boxed her in with someone who was already sick. It was her fault really for not taking him straight to the healers.
----
Amenth clung desperately to the mind of her rider as Ralia walked toward quarantine with Remmeck on her shoulder. It had been a struggle to get him to hold on but Ralia needed both arms to get herself along. She stumbled frequently and every time Amenth felt herself jerk forward as if to somehow catch her even though she could never reach her. She was holding onto them both, noting any small changes that happened to either of them. It wasn't until Ralia reached quarantine that she finally lowered her guard, but never letting go of them.
----
Ralia stood beside the cot she'd been given, she hadn't looked at whoever was in there with her or even if anyone was. The moment she had entered quarantine a healer had tried to attend her but Ralia had demanded she deal with others before her. The colour of her dragon should mean nothing here, there were others in far worse state then her to be attended to. She looked down at Remmeck who was watching her from the cot. She knew he was thinking exactly the same as Amenth.
Ralia shook her head and felt everything spin and when she looked up she saw things blur. She tightened her grip on the cot, her fingernails digging into the wood as everything lurched and flicked from focused to unfocused. She closed her eyes quickly, refusing to look at anything. Ralia had hoped that this would relieve her, but it didn't. She tried to take a step and felt her knees buckle. Her other hand latched onto the headboard for support and it worked, for a moment. She felt a sudden sensation that her entire inside was sharply pushed up. Her knees collapsed just as the first wave hit. One hand bunched in the furs on the bed while the other supported her. She heard a healer try and come toward her and managed to get out to stay away while it was happening. Ralia didn't know a lot about healing but she guessed that touching someone whilst they were being sick would not help.
Finally it stopped, by then Ralia couldn't focus on anything and wasn't really sure if her eyes were still open. She tried to push herself up and felt she was going the wrong way. She had tried to push herself up but now she was falling sideways and she could no longer feel the furs between her fingers.
She hit the ground on her side and winced as her head collided with the ground. She heard Amenth's loud bellow and didn't know if it was in her head or not, but it was the only think she heard as everything faded to black.
----
Ralia was dead-weight as she was lifted into her cot and placed beside Remmeck who, despite the pain it caused him, dragged himself those few scant inches to rest against her cheek. Just so that when she woke she would know he was there.
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Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2009 3:17 pm
B'ron and Hath
B'ron was swirling. His mind, at least, was. He felt as if his body was spinning through between -- except this between was hot. He was burning up in it, and spinning, spinning, spinning.
Hath was asleep. The dragon had been awake for three days. Like Ghinath, he had been exhausted and after one last check on His he had allowed himself to fall asleep. There was nothing to stabilize B'ron's whirling mind. He kept his eyes tightly closed, for if he opened them he found the spinning became worse. He was lost inside the spiral, unable to find his bearings.
There was a voice saying his name. The spinning receded. Something was calling him back to the present, stopping his mad flight through this hot, unbearably hot, darkness. He opened his eyes, fighting nausea. That voice was familiar. He turned his head to see her. His Ixiara.
"Ixi .." He couldn't breathe. He sucked in air and tried again. "Ixiara." The word was a plea, a sound of relief, and a worried cry all at once though at whisper was all the brownrider could muster. "Ixiara," he said once more, his voice a little stronger. The wild spins had been reduced to lazy spirals, he found. He said her name again, and again.
Vay and Consecreth
Vay's soft footsteps were unheard by most of the patients as she began her rounds. Some were better than others today. What made them better the bluerider did not know, and chafed at her inability to find out. She had little time to research these days as more riders and weyrfolk became ill. She peeped her head into B'ron and Ixiara's quarters, noting that they were lucid and seemed to be talking. The conscious would be left for last, as the unconscious might be nearer to -- her thoughts broke off.
She crept into Ralia and Remmeck's area. The tightly bound piece of cloth over the lower half of her face moved slightly as she breathed in. This was the queenrider that she had been informed about. There were only four - three? - and the loss of one . .
She shook her head fiercely, refusing to think such thoughts. Ralia was unconscious, the firelizard curled up beside her head. She stepped forward, putting her hand on the young woman's forehead. She was burning up with fever. Vay checked Remmeck as well, making a mental note that she would need to restock her cabinets in the infirmary. Her fever breaking supplies were down considerably. She paused over Ralia, examining her for any signs of distress. Unconsciousness was not such a bad thing, but she would wait a few more moments to see if the queenrider woke.
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Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2009 3:43 pm
After more than a week of hiding small sneezes and sniffles, L'von could no longer ignore the fact that he had caught the illness. He woke up exhausted after a fitful night of sleep in barracks, and could feel aches and pains in every joint.
He rolled onto his side in his cot, and his hair moved into his eyes obscuring his vision. When he used his free hand to push the hair out of his field of vision, L'von felt the sweat on his forehead in his now damp, greasy hair.
He groaned in pain and frustration as he rolled onto his back and tried to sit up and a heavy coughed wrenched from his body. When Sukarth heard the groan and the cough come from his lifemate his eyes started to tinge with orange. You have caught the illness that has everyone so worried mine. I shall call Elenneth to have Hannele summon a healer.
After being moved from the barracks to quarantine by a harried and stressed looking healer L'von reached out for Sukarth. Sukarth; mine, I need you with me. This quarantine is an awful place.
L'von coughed again, barely strong enough to move his arm to cover his face. It was at that moment he felt the chills set in, as he wrapped himself deeper into the furs on the new cot.
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Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2009 4:16 pm
If she had been well enough to feel curious Ixiara would have been fascinated by the way her emotions swirled together at the sound of B'ron's voice. She was so unbearably happy to see him after so long that she wanted to cry, at the same time her stomach plumeted down to somewhere near her feet when she realized that he, too, was sick. Very sick, for what else could reduce B'ron to such a state, when he was normally so upbeat, so dependable and sturdy? She rolled over on her side so that she could face him wihtout craning her neck, the sound of her own name repeating endlessly in her ears. She coughed softly, once, and then was still. Oddly enough her vision had cleared and was becoming more distinct. She could see the familiar lines of his face, distorted in strange new ways by the agony of his illness. She wanted to be closer to him, to comfort him, but her own weakness and the space between their cots was an effective barrier.
"I'm here," she said weakly, her voice low but distinct, rasping very slightly. She strained her shoulders and legs and managed to inch her way over to the edge of her cot, wanting so badly to be close to him, to feel a familiar touch, to have the comfort of someone she knew and loved. Her bed seemed to roll beneath her for a sickening moment, and then it evened out. Her breathing was slightly louder in her own ears, and her chest protested that she was no longer lying flat with every breath, but she was happier than she had been in a while. "I'm here," she said again, smiling a little and letting her eyes droop halfway. She coughed again, though it wasn't the terrible hacking noise that had been produced before. "When did you g-get in?"
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Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2009 4:30 pm
B'ron and Hath
"A day ago, I think .." B'ron trailed off. He couldn't think. It was too much to ask of him at the moment. "I don't know." The man stopped, short of breath. His fever was burning up, burning his eyes. He shut them as he began to roll over, the aches in his body protesting mightily. He felt a wave of nausea hit him and was still, taking deep breaths. He had not eaten in a while; surely there was nothing to vomit. Still, he did not risk it and spoke again only when he was sure of his stomach's stability.
"Ixiara . ." he said softly. "Oh, my Ixiara, why are you here? Why you?" The man obviously knew the practical reason for Ixiara's quarantine, and so it was evident that he was railing at fate. His body lay limp, and his voice was weak, but the upset was clear. "You must get well," he said fervently, his whispers hoarse. "You must get well for Ghinath, and for Telgar. Thread will be falling -- it IS falling but it's so cold -- this summer .. who will be left .." he rambled on and on, his words soon becoming incomprehensible as the fever took over his already ravaged mind.
"My eyes .." he murmured. "They burn .."
Vay and Consecreth
Ralia was not responding. She was completely unconscious, it appeared to Vay. The Healer sighed and stepped out of the room, calling for one of the women whose task was to nurse the invalids.
"Watch her," she said, gesturing to Ralia's room. "Talk to her and see if you can get her to wake up. Once she does, send for me."
After the nurse had nodded and stepped into Ralia's quarantine the bluerider continued on her rounds, stopping to check in on the new patient. It was L'von. Vay spoke softly, aware that he may have a splitting headache. It seemd to be a symptom of this mess.
"Rider?" she said, for she did not know if he was a rider or weyrling. "I am Vay, a healer. I've come to check on you," she continued. Her hand reached for his forehead. "Tell me how you are feeling, and I'll try my best to relieve the symptoms."
The symptoms, not the illness. Vay gritted her teeth. It was all she could do to manage the symptoms, and hope that they provided enough relief to the patients. She longed for an answer to be found, for a cure. So far, there hadn't been one.
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Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2009 5:02 pm
Her vision blurred out again briefly during the long pause, Ixiara sensed that B'ron was not done talking yet and held her own silence. She felt her throat constrict with more than her sickness as he spoke, so happy to hear his voice - and especially the words he was saying. Concern for him quickly overrode her brief moment of happiness, however. His sentences became disjointed as he grew more and more agitated. Her need to comfort him grew with every syllable she heard from him. She tried to lift herself, and she managed to raise herself shakily on her forearms for a brief minute but sank back down onto the cot soon after.
"My eyes... they burn..."
Ixiara's heart sped up at those words. His eyes? Her brain couldn't make sense of the comment; considering how the rest of her felt, her own eyes had been fine this whole time. The pain on B'ron's face was real enough, however, and Ixiara suddenly began to feel even more worried.
"Healer?" She said weakly, meaning to call out but unable to gather sufficient air yet. Even if her own fever was falling slowly, she was nowhere near healed. It was clear, even as she tried it, that she wasn't going to be able to call for anyone.
Feeling unsettled, still aching to be closer to B'ron, Ixiara did the only thing that made sense to her plagued brain; she began trying to get up. Her first few attempts were so pitifully weak that she was roiling with frustration at the limitations her illness imposed on her. Being emotionally weak as well, her frustration nearly drove her to tears as well. But then, finally, her trembling arms supported her long enough for her to drag her legs underneath her. Ixiara stumbled, almost falling to the stone floor, her legs shaking with every step she took. But she leaned against the wall and gritted her teeth together, willing the room to stop spinning. After what felt like an age her knees bumped the side of B'ron's cot and she was able to sit. Ixiara almost missed the edge of the bed, and that would have been disastrous, but when she did finally flop down it was in the right spot. She closed her eyes and fought her nausea, forcing her dry throat to swallow, leaning sideways and clinging to the bed, shivering slightly as chills came to grip her. Her hand searched blindly for B'ron's, when she found it she was suprised by how hot it felt, and how weak, but she gripped it with what she hoped would be a comforting way. Her body shook slightly, her eyes drooping again. She wished that she had thought to bring a blanket, at least... but the few feet separating the two cots had been hard enough to navigate with her hands free. Exhausted by this short effort, she sank sideways weakly and curled her legs up. B'ron was a pulsating presence of heat neat to her, but his hand was comforting in hers. "I'm here," she said in little more than a whisper, "I'm not leaving."
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Posted: Mon Sep 28, 2009 2:31 pm
B'ron and Hath
She was gripping his hand.
Who was gripping his hand?
It was her -- it was Ixiara.
Was someone holding his hand?
It was his Ixiara, by his side .. she who was terribly sick as well, by his side .. they were stuck in this quarantine together ..
"Ghinath flies?" B'ron asked deliriously. Ghinath must have flown, to get Ixiara up to his weyr. For that was where he was, inside his mind. He was in his weyr, with Hath only a few feet away and Gar laying lazily in the basin full of water. Onie was there, too, but her form shifted into that of his foster mother's. "You are here? I'm not so very bad off," he said to the imaginary Malana. "You can go home, mother. Father needs you. He is ill." His words were slurred, weak.
Then his scene changed, and it was he beside Ixiara's bed, holding her hand. She needs me to hold her hand, he thought and squeezed. She was sick, too. She needed him more than anything, to hold her and make her feel better. He held her hand, but not too tightly so as not to crush her fingers. Oh, how hot she was! It was covering him with heat, sweltering heat. Still, he must stay by her side, no matter how hot it was.
In reality, B'ron was weakly holding Ixiara's hand, delirium from the heat of fever providing a relief from the terrible burning in his eyes. He laid still, save for slowly bringing his other hand around to rest in Ixiara's hair. She was speaking. She was here? Of course she was here. Where else would she be?
And I am Here. a gentle, soothing voice said inside the minds of both Ixiara and B'ron.
And I, Consecreth, am here. Mine will be there soon to make you feel better, the voice of blue Consecreth chimed in -- a soft melody inside the delusions of B'ron and the weakness of Ixiara.
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Posted: Mon Sep 28, 2009 5:36 pm
Ixiara wiggled her shoulders a little, moving slowly but managing to burrow down. The furs and blankets beneath her slowly began radiating back the warmth from her body, so the side of her that faced down was warm at least. She closed her eyes slowly and began trying to even out her breathing, feeling peaceful for a few moments. B'ron turned a little, shifting restlessly. He began muttering, his voice volume changing seemingly at random as he spoke. Ghinath flying? She was much too young yet...
Hmmmm... yes, but we will get there one day - you and I, the green said sleepily, waking up slowly from her nap, You are speaking, she said happily, raising her head and looking in the direction of the quarantine. A wordless questioning feeling began circulating in Ghinath's mind as she caught on to the recent drastic mood swings Ixiara had been experiencing. When B'ron began speaking to his mother, though, Ghinath understood. He is sick as well, then, she said flatly, laying her head down and stretching her claws out.
Ixiara lay still, holding B'ron's hand gently, knowing that if he was delerious there was little she could do except provide something stable for him to focus on when he began coming out of it. She shivered a little, each side of her body feeling like the oposite end of the temprature scale.
Silly, Ghinath said scathingly, her disdain directed more at herself for falling asleep just when Ixiara decided to do something foolish, Why did you leave your bed? You have wasted what you gained from sleep! And now you are cold.
Actually, Ixiara thought both to her dragon and to herself, I'm beginning to feel too warm. B'ron's hand was gently touching her hair, it stirred up a warmth in her chest that ran deeper than her aches from coughing, and she began to feel as if she might be able to sleep again. Hath's voice, when it came, was a welcome surprise. Consecreth's comment startled Ixiara a little, but she relaxed quickly. His tone was soothing and his words comforting. A healer would be able to help B'ron with that strange pain in his eyes... Ghinath sighed quietly, sensing that Ixiara was more awake and happier than she had been in a very, very long while, and because of that Ghinath unable to stay irritated. I'm sorry I upset you, dear heart, Ixiara thought absently, feeling herself sinking down to sleep. But just once, couldn't you please allow him a little slack? He's so sick...
As are you, Ghinath said, mildly, wrapping her mental awareness around Ixiara's. With something that might have been a sigh, the green relented slightly. Seeking out B'ron's mind she noted that he was, in fact, very sick; his thoughts were worse than Ixiara's had been during her own delusions. With a slight brush against Hath's mind by way of greeting, Ghinath began applying some of the tactics she had used to calm her own girl. Water was her gift and her voice, and the green dragon sent sensations of immersion in it to the feverish man. Tricking Ixiara's mind into feeling what wasn't real hadn't been hard, and now Ghinath attempted the same thing on B'ron.
Sensing what Ghinath was attempting for B'ron Ixiara smiled and felt herself sinking, darkness rising up to claim her and ease away painful wakefulness. It was not a faint, it was sleep, and as she drifted off she thought that she heard footsteps - perhaps a voice? It did not matter. A croon from Ghinath was the last thing that her mind registered.
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Posted: Mon Sep 28, 2009 6:30 pm
Capna was curled up in a ball shivering, even though he was hot. Fever made him damp along with the little bed he was put in. But the reason why he was shivering was because of his fever dreams and the fear he was enduring. Food, the one thing he loved next to his bonded, was attacking. He tried to between to get away from them, but it wouldn't work. And flying tired him quickly, so he had to run on all fours to get away.
At first he was in paradise. Such a beautiful dream, miles and miles of food. Then a bubbly pie (his favourite dessert), bit him. Then a meatroll stood up and was about to take a chomp out of his hide. Soon every piece of food had fangs and eyes and was trying to eat him. He just couldn't get away. A n** here or there. This wonderful fever dream had turned into a nightmare.
And it affected His and her bondeds as well.
Minno, Tertiath, and Quith, hadn't had much sleep over the time of his fever. For his dreams became Minno's dreams, and her dreams became their dreams.
But now there seemed to be a break in the dream. A drizzle began to fall, and as Capna looked back, it was causing the food to slip and trip. And oh, did it feel ever so nice on his nipped hide. There was also the sound of a middle-toned bell too. And leaving the firelizard-eating food behind him, he went to go look for it. It sounded rather familiar, and there was soothing thoughts of love coming to him too.
Tertiath and Minno were trying to talk to him. Trying to calm him, hoping that it would end soon, as they wished for some sleep.
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Posted: Tue Sep 29, 2009 2:33 pm
How long had it been since he had gotten sick? Time mattered little anymore, seemed to tick by ever so slowly. Doubts filled his mind; why hadn't he tried to explain it to her? He knew he had been sick, before the more serious symptoms had shown up. And he managed to cover them well, though he had hated the thought of keeping them from her. The coughing; hot flashes sweeping through his body, leaving him in moments where he thought a flame was licking at his skin. How sometimes even the most mundane of daily tasks made him ever so tired...
Starth had been a flighty dragon, since her hatching. Being bullied about on her hatching day had seen to that, jumping at the slightest sound or movement. But for the most part, she had been getting over that, right? He liked to hope so, though at this point he didn't know... Wasn't sure. She had become so bright and friendly as he was, to talk to anyone she happened across. Always ready to make a friend when she crossed one.
To think that all would be gone in a flash, something that was beyond his control. He had been near the lower caverns, when a spasm racked his entire body; it shook him to the core. It rendered him unconscious, and it had been over a full day later when he had awoken to a writhing feeling in his gut, an emptiness in his head, and his heart ripped from it's cage. Starth was gone. An attending healer underling had told him was had happened; when he seized, the flighty green had freaked out. It took but mere moments for her to blink Between, having feared the worst when she felt no other side, no response from her beloved rider while he suffered from his seizure. It was wondrous that he had even awoken; Ziriaso felt as if he'd woken to a nightmare he couldn't escape from. Once the truth became clear, she was truly gone... Ziriaso had cried himself into an asphyxiated sleep.
A slow, warm emotion sifted through the numbed encasement of him mind. It was hindered by pain, weighted down by the loss as well. But it was there, that adoration; loving him even in his shattered state. The man opened his eyes, tearing himself away from the painfully sweet images of his dearly departed beloved. Kulu struggled across the bed, his tiny claws catching on the blanket as he forced himself to cross that distance. His needed him, and (sickness or no sickness) he wouldn’t let him down! Ziriaso bit his lip, quietly watching with somber eyes as the brown fire lizard struggled that small distance towards him. Only recently had he noticed anything was wrong with him, now it almost seemed as if the brown’s little body didn’t want to support him anymore. He leaned forward, scooping up the exhausted brown easily before bringing him to his lap, stroking the small space between his eyes gently. The small facets whirled gently, and although they were pain-tinged, the love in his small eyes made Ziriaso want to cry all over again if he were able to.
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Posted: Tue Sep 29, 2009 6:59 pm
L'von lay in the cot, tucked under the furs. "I'm cold." He said weakly, and then continued, "I can hardly move, everything hurts." As he took a wheezy breath in he started to cough heavily.
Then he looked up at the healer and said, "And I'm coughing."
Sukarth, mine. Never leave me. He said, to the comforting presence in his mind. I never will. The bronze replied back, but it sounded only as a distant echo in L'von's mind.
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