Round Stone Crest children of the barricade

For @Draven only.
10/26 - Partly cloudy, early morning.

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.

Morning greeted the boy with a thunderous, pounding ache over his right eye. Draven groaned and lifted one paw to lay across his face, shielding his eyes from most of the sunlight as his tongue slithered out to wet his uncomfortably dry, coriaceous nose. He was thirsty, too, and he could hear water rushing nearby-- Exactly three seconds after attempting to sit up, the boy was on his side and covering his eyes again, groaning even more loudly as the ache in his forehead turned into an explosively sharp agony that felt like his skull was being split open with a sharp stick. He hadn't been expecting that, but he probably should have been. Squeezing his eyes shut, Draven counted to five and then threw himself over onto his stomach again, lurching forward at the same time so that when his head tried to explode again he was already close enough to the water that the whole effort wasn't wasted. It took a horribly long time for the pain to fade enough that Draven could see straight again, but he couldn't - and din't dare - make himself try to drink until it did. Only when the ache had setted back into an uncomfortable background sensation did he finally drink, shivering slightly as the icy water slid down his throat again and resisting the urge to guzzle as he had last night. He didn't need to be sore and throwing up!

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.

(This post was last modified: Nov 19, 2015, 11:52 PM by Gent.)