The sun had risen and burned away the fog, those flighty creatures which had not yet ventured south for warmer weather chirping amongst themselves in the boughs above. The king stirred, his mind crawling toward consciousness as his body realized it was not where it should have been. When his pale eyes opened, they rested on Draven, still slumbering at the water's edge. Slowly his memories returned to him, and he brought himself onto his coriaceous paw pads, arching his back to stretch it before shaking the melted frost from his coat. Once more he eyed the boy, checking that he was breathing, before stretching his neck forward and lapping up a few gulps of cold water.

He wanted to know how Draven was feeling now that he had filled up on water and gotten a solid night's sleep, but was unwilling to wake him just for that information alone. If he truly had been plagued by dehydration, and no other ailment lurked within him, then he would most likely be incredibly thirsty when he woke, perhaps suffering from a headache, but otherwise fine, and feeling leagues better than he had the night previous. This was what Gent hoped to be true, and as he reclined upon the thawing ground, he waited patiently to find out either way once Draven awoke.

His gaze had flitted out into the scenery around them, witnessing the morning as it ushered life into the beasts owned by the daylight and chased away those who had pledged their souls to the night. It registered with the king that he had missed his ceremonial greeting of the sun with @Cessair atop her hill, and wondered if his absence had caused her any concern for the woman. He would make sure to seek her out and explain the occassion to her, but only after he was certain that Draven was alright.

When the boy stirred beside him his thoughts were broken apart and cast aside, pale gaze transferring to the raven pelted child. A grimace settled lightly onto his lips as Draven's pain was evident, and he patiently allowed the boy to do as he willed at his own pace. Only after giving him plenty of time to drink what he wanted did he speak up.

"Anything other than your head n' throat hurting ya?" he asked, relying greatly on whatever Draven's reply was. It would, hopefully, tell him whether or not the king had been right in his summation of what had been wrong. Although, he had learned from Minka's death that one could never truly know, but the thought was so thoroughly unsettling that he dismissed it altogether.