Stavanger Bay icarus

The boy had been laying low for the past few days. He showed little interest in his new home, instead favoring long naps in the heart of the forest. The wound upon his neck still throbbed, but for the most part it had begun to heal - becoming a thick scab which itched tremendously, but Tiarnan knew better than to irritate it. He woke from a long sleep to the irritating urge to scratch, but resisted with all of his might. He was tired - very tired - and there was a heat to his skin that felt very strange. Beneath the looming figures of the trees he should have been cool. The shadows kept most of the summer sun at bay, yet Tiarnan felt a humidity within his very being that could only mean one thing: fever.