Neverwinter Forest Darkness devours every shining day

Turquoise rolled over, groaned and opened her eyes slowly. She lifted her head and looked around, searching for Rivet. "Riv?" she rasped, her mouth painfully dry. "Hey, Riv?" she called a bit louder. The sylphlike DeMonte must have been out of earshot, as she received no response and the den remained quiet and empty.

Grunting, Turq pushed herself into a sitting position, then gingerly rose onto all fours. She still felt warm, so she assumed her fever hadn't broken yet. The thirst was further indication that she wasn't on the mend just yet. Heavily, she shambled out of the den and walked over to a nearby puddle. She bent over it and drank ravenously, slaking her burning thirst.

Once satisfied, she turned and doddered back to her resting place, lying down in the doorway of the den she shared with Rivet. She felt weak, tired and like death warmed over. Not for the first time, Turq wished that Neverwinter had a medic. The resident Surgeon had long since disappeared, leaving her to cope with her sickness on her own. Rivet comforted her, yet there was little the Lookout could do for her medically.

With a sigh, Turquoise let her chin drift down to rest on her black stockinged forelegs. Her turquoise eyes remained open, watching as dusk began to purple the sky and throw Neverwinter Forest into an eldritch gloom.