Bearclaw Valley blowing on a highway alone

Darkness was something to be feared, for all the unknown things of this world dwelled within it. To be trapped within it against your will was the stuff of nightmares. This isn't to say he is completely unaware of the outside world, though he wishes to be. He would snap back into reality every so often, only to experience immense pain. It was indescribable. His muscles would tense and jerk at random intervals, foam would pour from his mouth. Hell he could hardly breathe. The episodes would be a horrifying thing to witness. It would always end though. He'd fall back into this empty realm between life and death.

He had awoken once more today, only this time he did not immediately fall victim to the sickness. A bright light blinded him and the boy groaned, curling in on himself. He stayed in this position for a while before he worked up the courage to look at the world. There wasn't much to see, as expected. Darkness surrounded him, though it wasn't as void as it was in his uncounious state. He peared over his shoulder and was greated by bright greens and yellows that peaked through a small opening.

Where am I? A weak whimper fills the den. He desperately claws at the ground, trying to lift himself up. How did I get here? The boy is made painfully aware of his current state now. Try as he might, he is not able to push himself forward. It could be from exhaustion or hunger, quite possibly both. Either way he is unable to do anything and he eventually falls. Choked up sobs escaped his lips. 

What's happening to me? Who am I?

@Alarian & @Midar
for reference!

He's made an effort to stay with the child as often as possible, though he's beginning to feel less optimistic about his condition. The first seizure had been terrifying, but he'd remembered witnessing it before, and by now they've become routine for him. He tries not to wonder whether it's the same for the boy in his care. Truth be told, there isn't much he can do for him; the poppies are almost dry enough to shake the seeds from them, but it hardly matters if his patient can't eat them, or anything. He keeps the wound on his head clean, but he knows from his own experiences that he cannot treat the damage within.
He can at least keep him safe while he heals, though — if he is truly healing. These doubts are so distracting that he hardly notices the boy stirring at first, though it only takes a few moments. His heart drops into his stomach and he rises quickly, but the child seems... well, not good, but not writhing on the floor either. It takes him a few more seconds to react, but then he approaches him slowly, watching him closely and speaking softly. Hey. Can you tell me how you're feeling?

The question was left unanswered. If it were not the soft cries that silenced the words, it was the loud drum of his head. The boy was left unaware of the stranger's presence. It would've stayed that way if he hadn't looked over his shoulder once more.

The boy jerked backwards, staring up at the figure wide-eyed. All memory of this man was lost to time. As far as he's concerned, this stranger was nothing but that. But he can't run, he can't fight. He is at a loss for what to do and only reacts with broken, weak screams.

His stomach twists when the boy screams, and he resists the urge to flinch, regarding him silently for a moment before he realizes he should do something. He's never been all that great at comforting others, but he knows that at the very least he can make himself rather unintimidating. He lurches backward a little awkwardly, careful not to be too abrupt as he all but flattens himself to the ground. His ears fall back against his skull as he looks up at the boy, desperately hoping it will be enough to silence him if nothing else. It'd be unreasonable to expect the child to repay him for saving his life, but he doesn't think it's too much to ask that he doesn't, y'know, screech at his face. Even if he is pretty ugly.

His hoarse cries grew quieter and quieter until nothing but soft whimpers touched the walls. The man didn't seem to have any intention of harming him and so there was no need to cry for help. That isn't to say the child was completely void of fear. He still shook like a leaf in autumn. He tried to ask questions like where am I and who are you but his tongue failed him. Incoherent phrases and inaudible sounds fell from his mouth.