Redhawk Caldera — a sensation!

In the night, his temperature rose. Not enough to be alarming, but enough for his mind to pluck from his illness.

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A forest, thick and flush with life. There was singing and colors splashed upon the trees. He heard laughter of voices old and new. The smell of milk and honey. Things that once jarred him now felt like a sign of home. In the forest was a clearing and almost like fairies there was dancing and songs. Fireflies all around. Most of them were strangers, but some of them he knew.

@Kukutux did not dance, but showed the youth of the group a song to sing along. Her voice the loudest of them all in this deafening dream.

@Lótë offered colors to the dancers and sometimes stepped in beat beside them. Her son trailing after her all the while, the same size he had last seen the boy.

But they did not see him. They laughed, they lived, they loved. No matter how much he weaved through the crowd, no one seemed to see him. A stark figure in the sea of pale coats and lush flora. Why couldn't they see him? Why did Kukutux not speak wise words to him? Why did Lótë not offer him the tender moments they often shared?

He opened his mouth.

There was nothing.

---

He woke up suddenly, lurching to his feet in a stumbled manner. His neck even more sore after all the tending to and the smell of medicine clung to him heavily.

Water.

He wanted water. Needed water.

Except he only made it about three feet from the den he had been placed in, opened his mouth.

In the dark, the sound of a splatter. All the contents of his stomach, all upon the earth. His throat hurt worse for it all and his gut was empty once more.

Bridget couldn't leave that night. She wouldn't until she knew that he was stable, and she knew that would not be sure until the fever he fought had passed. The medic did manage to snatch a bit of sleep, but she woke to the sound of retching outside and was immediately on her feet.

Hey, here. You're alright. She knew better than to be annoyed that he'd gotten up. Illness could have caused it, or the need to move. She did move closer, however, to lend him something to lean on.

He couldn't communicate verbally, but she waited to see what he would do. If he did not seem to recognize her, or pulled away, then she would need to do her best to reassure him. She did not think his fever had risen to that level yet but she was prepared regardless.

Woozy.

His head rushed and pounded all at once as he stared at the herbal pile of bile at his paws. The stench of it floral and acidic all at once. Like some type of bad open.

The burn of his throat complimented the aching of his wound.

Suddenly, the firebrand was at his side. Glazed blue eyes turned to look at her with an owlish blink. He knew her, he knew here. As much as a newcomer could, obviously.

He leaned against her heavily before he slouched into a seated position. Hunched apologetically.

It was not hard to guess that he might want water after throwing up the herbs she had given him. Bridget had chosen this den site because it was near a clear source of it. She did wonder if he wanted, and was able, to make that walk.

If you want water, I can help you get there. I can also bring some back. If he tried to stand she would take that as his answer. Otherwise she would get the turtle's shell that she had hollowed for just this purpose.

If he stood and tried to move, she'd do her best to support his weight and lead him directly to the stream.

He did attempt it, thinking that if he had so quickly rushed out of the den, then surely he could make it to water.

Only to realize that the rushing had not been for the water. It had been because of the sickness. Now that he stood, with the contents of his stomach empty, he found himself far too lightheaded to do such a task.

So he stepped to the side and slumped back down to the earth, on his stomach now.

His tail softly tapped at the earth behind him.

That was a clear answer if she's ever seen one!  Bridget huffed out a light laugh, then turned to fetch the shell from the den.  I'll be right back. 

It might take her a couple of trips to fetch enough to allow him to sate his thirst, but it was easy enough to dunk the shell and carefully walk it back.  As she did, she wondered if there was anything she could do about his state otherwise.

He'd need food, but it would need to be something he could keep down.  Something that wouldn't require much by way of eating.  She had an idea for that - and she wouldn't even need to catch one herself.  Teya had been busy.

She tended to him.

And each time he offered an apologetic look with a thankful grin. He kept himself anchored on the ground, unwilling to move much further for now.

Soon his thirst was lacking and the acidic burn in his throat had decreased greatly.

Finally he moved and it was to stir submissively across the ground, reaching for her chin with a tentative lick.

Bridget accepted the gesture with a smile. It wasn't necessary, but she recognized it as the man's thanks. She didn't mind his quiet, though she didn't know if it was due to the injury or something else. She was glad he did not strain to try and speak - he might recover faster this way.

I'll be right back. She left and went to where she knew Teya had stashed her recent catches, taking one of the fish and bringing it back to set near him. If you get hungry. It's fresh, caught today. She smiled, settling down near where he'd laid down. It was going to be a nice night, so there was no reason for him to need to stay within the den if he wanted the fresh air.

He did not know how he felt when she was away.

Perhaps more like this was all a dream. The aching pain in his throat and neck, the tightness of every muscle in his body. The lean, tired state of himself. None of it seemingly real and yet it was all a vivid reminder of things he went through.

Thankfully he did not live in that dissociation long.

He gave her another display of submission and gratefulness.

But he nudged the first back towards her first. A soft click of his teeth near the flesh of it. He wished for her to eat first, if she was also hungry.

Bridget let out a long-suffering sigh as he shoved the fish back at her. You know, it's not very bright to question a doctor's orders. She responded, smiling despite her slightly chiding tone. I'd have brought one for myself, but I already ate.

She wanted him to have as much of it as he needed and might have shared if that didn't mean, potentially, having to go back to fetch another. If his appetite wasn't on par she could finish what was left, but until then it was all his.

Don't mind me. I'll rest the legs a bit, but shove me if you need anything. She stretched, then scooted a tidge closer so that she was within easy reach. She'd go on another water run here soon, just to be sure he had a drink when he needed it, but before then she'd take advantage of the break this offered.

fadin <3

He would eat what his body allowed him.

But the truth was he still needed sleep the most. His body in a constant toiling state to heal what had been broken.

So he drifted off to some state of slumber during her break. Fish left in a half-state.

He would sleep long into the sun hours the next day.