Scattered clouds, 51F/11C
What fresh hell was this!? Viorel knew that his cousin and co-leader had fallen ill, but thought that it had been related to that stupid turtle bite. Turns out it was contagious. It had started with some stomach cramps, subtle at first and the man thought he had just eaten too quickly, but they got worse rapidly. Soon it felt like an elk was ramming a horn into his organs, twisting and turning as it went, it was enough torture it brought embarrasing moans form his maw. Then he had started to feel hot all over, and then cold, and then hot again, until he was almost delirious with pain and fever.
If only it had stayed that way. Viorel had been praying for sleep when the explosions came. Hobbling away from the rest of the pack frantically, he made it as far as he could before fluids erupted from both ends. It seemed he had more inside of him than he ever thought possible, and it seemed like an hour passed before the heaves left him shivering, and dizzy, but empty. Groaning in misery he had attempted to cover this mess in dirt and dust before limping away from it all. This process continued on and off throughout the night before sweet sweet sleep finally set in and gave him some relief.
Now it was the next morning, and his head swam groggily. Panting in an attempt to cool himself down Viorel had dragged himself under a bush close to the creek near the west border. He had been trying to drink water, but it seemed futile as his stomach refused to keep anything inside of it. This was the most miserable he had ever been, if he was going to die would it just hurry up instead of taunting him?