[ Caught between sleep and unconsciousness, he stirs when the contact pushes him over to the waking world. His eyes tighten and then open partway, and the first thing that Somnus registers in his murky mind is that he must have retired without realizing that the sickness had returned. A bone-deep ache radiates all throughout his body, and his head swims even though he doesn't so much as twitch.
He is significantly ill.
A hand is wrapped around his. Pyra. He'd returned to the townhouse, so this cannot be the tent in the recovery area. With a set of shallow but silent breaths, he drags a lethargic hand up the bed sheet and drapes his fingers over her wrist. Is it her hand or his own that is so cold, he wonders distantly, and how long has he allowed this sickness to advance?
It aches to move and even breathe. Contact will be his cure, yet this is the extent of the energy his half-conscious mind can muster. Inhaling as deeply as he's able to manage, he closes his eyes. ]
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He is significantly ill.
A hand is wrapped around his. Pyra. He'd returned to the townhouse, so this cannot be the tent in the recovery area. With a set of shallow but silent breaths, he drags a lethargic hand up the bed sheet and drapes his fingers over her wrist. Is it her hand or his own that is so cold, he wonders distantly, and how long has he allowed this sickness to advance?
It aches to move and even breathe. Contact will be his cure, yet this is the extent of the energy his half-conscious mind can muster. Inhaling as deeply as he's able to manage, he closes his eyes. ]