Swiftcurrent Creek To Hold and Ocean

Indeed, Tuwawi slumbered deeply upon her husband as if she were a throw, head resting heavy on his rib cage. The cloudless night had been long and sleepless for the Sveijarn woman, terrified by the prospect that is she left him drift he would not wake. Eventually Njal's breathes balanced as his fever reduced. Only then did she allow him rest — quickly accompanying him into a dreamless coma. Her efforts were rewarded when the eastern dawn peaked through the foyer. Birds sang merrily, oblivious to the night the two wolves had endured, but they were a welcome sound. Tuwawi did not hear their call for some time after Njal had roused. Between by her own struggle with the cougar, hunting for Fox, and staying up with Njal, fatigue hung heavy on her bones. Though, when she did stir, her muzzle lazily traced the crest of his shoulder, "Mm, you should have woke me," she mumbled, almost forgetting their ordeal. Suddenly, her eyes snapped awake and relief flooded her system at the sight of his single, clear, glassy eye.

"Ah, how are you feeling?" The answer would be an obvious one, but at least her spouse was out of the woods. Without waiting for him to respond, she stood up, "I will find you food," she promised. It was the least she could do... to make up for her utter incompetence.