Hideaway Strath A strangled cry

Though he still tired very quickly, Sirius was no longer on the brink of death. His lungs were hampered by stringy, yellow phlegm - easy to tell by the rattle in his breaths and the hacking cough that often produced small piles of the bike substance for Hemlock's inspection. These episodes were often accompanied by bouts of tantrums from the greyling boy; his frustration and over-exhaustion from the prolonged illness had turned his energy (previously outlet by his adventuring) into a whiny and misbehaving kind.

But when Hemlock arrived on that day, he bounced toward her offering with his usual, cheerful gait. "Mamamamama," he chattered at his caretaker, wondering if she'd brought Olive with her, this time. His ears drooped when Olive did not appear, but his ropey tail was soon wagging once more. He was getting used to her absence, and Hemlock was good company, anyway.

The boy ate, ravenous as ever. He missed nursing very much, but those memories would soon fade as well.