Daynoren was worried. Catame hadn't been sleeping well the past couple of nights, and though he never let him close enough to tell for sure, Daynoren was sure he had a fever. There was no other explanation for that combination of pale hands and mouth with flushed cheeks and forehead. Every time he asked, though, Catame assured him he was fine with that sweet smile of his that brooked no argument. If Catame would not admit to feeling ill, Daynoren couldn't force him to.

The fourth day since their first snow, however, things seemed to take a turn for the worst-- with everything. The sky hung heavily, threatening more snow and dampening everyone's mood, even Daynoren's; the wonder of snow quickly wore of, as had the excitement of travel, as he was exposed to the realities of it. Perhaps if he'd had a warm fire and a dry change of clothes waiting inside after being out in the snow for an hour or so, he could have kept that wonderful, playful enjoyment for the soft white stuff he'd first felt when he saw it, but when the only thing he could expect was a soggy cloak and a stumbling mare with hours of cold, wet travel ahead of him, it was hard to think of snow as something fun. Dana seemed of the same opinion; after that first burst of camaraderie after their snow fight, she had, if anything, gotten even more dour and prone to snap at the boys. Maybe that was why Catame hadn't wanted to bring up his obviously increasing illness: he didn't want the wrath of the lady on him for inconveniencing her.

But it was getting worse, even Daynoren could see that. Catame was jumpy and nervous, drained of color almost entirely but for the fever blush under his eyes, and trembling so hard it was a wonder he even stayed on his horse's back. Daynoren tried to ride close to him, but that seemed to make the boy even more nervous, so he would back off-- only to creep closer again as worry drew him to his brother's side, and again be driven away by fear that he was somehow making things worse. It wasn't any use talking to him, either, because what little he could pick up over the rising wind didn't make any sense, as if Catame didn't even really hear him or didn't understand what he was hearing. It was the latter that really worried Daynoren.

Finally, they stopped for a brief lunch and, after watching Catame raise his piece of bread to his mouth three times and drop it again, Daynoren decided he had to do something. He approached Dana.

"Madam Danui," he began, drawing up as much of his adult-like demeanor as he could, "I think we should stop for a few days at the next inn we find."

"Why would we want to do that?" Dana asked with a kind of distracted disdain. "We're already behind because of all this bloody snow."

"Because I don't think Catame will make it through another day of travel," Day said bluntly. Dana looked down her long nose at him without turning the rest of her body to face him, looking severe, but Daynoren plowed on. "Look at him, madam Danui. He's sick, and he has been for days."

Dana didn't even glance Cat's way, her dark eyes fixed on Daynoren, who was starting to get angry at her apparent lack of concern. "He's just delicate, you know that," she said dismissively. "A good night's sleep will set him right."

"It's not that!" Day exclaimed. "It's not just being tired, I know what that looks like!"

"Calm yourself, child," Dana said frostily. "If we want to miss the worst winter storms, we have to continue. It won't be any better for any of us to get caught in a blizzard, now, would it?"

"It won't do Catame any good if he dies before we get to Sanctuary!" Daynoren retorted with enough heat for the both of them.

"Oh come now, he's not going to die," Dana scoffed, finally looking at the younger boy, but still only briefly, as if she still didn't care that he looked half-dead as it was. "He's doing well enough, and we can't afford to stop now."

"What do you want?" Day exploded, "For him to fall right off his saddle and get left behind? Is that it? One less annoying tagalong? Huh?"

Either that hit a sore spot, or Dana had just run out of patience, for she flipped shut the saddle bag she'd been rummaging in and motioned to the guards, her lips tight and expression unmistakably angry. "We're going," she ordered. "We've a long way yet to go and we've wasted enough time."

Flushed and resentful, Daynoren glared at her as she bustled from horse to horse, making sure everything was packed up again, then made as if to help Catame up onto his feet, but Daynoren darted forward to take his hand, instead, shooting her a venomous look. She relinquished his brother to him, expressionless but with the telltale tightness of her mouth that said she was still angry, moving instead to climb up onto her own horse.

"It's not too much farther," Daynoren murmured reassuringly to Catame as he helped him up, frightened by the thinness of his hands and the heat coming off him even in the chill air. Catame didn't acknowledge him, attention fixed inward, but he accepted the older boy's help back into the saddle. He needed it, anyway; his arms didn't seem to have the strength to lift himself up that high anymore. Once he was sure Cat was safely seated, Daynoren trotted back to his own mare and scrambled up onto her back. He didn't care if it made Catame nervous, he was sticking by his brother as much as he could, if just to make sure he didn't pass out and fall and break something. Though, he thought bitterly, at least that way maybe that would force their aunt would let them stop for a while.

Catame didn't seem to notice his nearness, this time, as if he'd fallen back into that unseeing daze of exhaustion Daynoren could remember from their first two weeks of riding. Daynoren wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but he kept close, anyway. Their pace had increased, but so had the wind, and with probably two hours left to go before sunset and their arranged arrival at their next inn, snow began to fall again, more thickly than before. Catame huddled in his cloak and Daynoren braved calling up a little of his own magic to keep them both warm, but it didn't last very long; he still hadn't worked up much casting-endurance, and it frustrated him, even though Deep Kaur had assured him that no one as young as he was had much endurance for holding spells that burned as much energy as producing heat.

Tired from the magic, chilled as it wore off, and still angry at Dana and worried for Catame, Day thought he saw a massive, lupine shape drifting through the snow behind them. He shook himself nervously, and the specral wolf was gone again-- briefly afraid that he was catching whatever Catame had and be as delerious as he had suspected the younger boy of being, Daynoren looked around him with a little more alertness. The snow and the fading light made it difficult to see beyond the bounds of the rocky trail and the double file of horses moving along it, and his magical senses weren't going to be of much use, not after wasting his energy on the heating spell and with all the interferance of the approaching storm, so even though he didn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary, he still wasn't very reassured.

They were just approaching a turn in the trail when the lady Dana shrieked. Daynoren jumped in the saddle, yanking on his mare's reins. Catame's gray gelding walked a few more paces before realizing that the pack horse he'd been following had stopped, and stopping, himself, without any obvious prompting from Catame. Dana ahead of them, with the pack horses between them and her, reached for the daggers Daynoren had seen her tuck into her bodice more than once as she prepared for travel that day, and the guard beside her yanked out his broadsword. There was a large, dark, shaggy shape in the snow before them, blocking the path with sharp, white teeth bared. A wolf! A wolf almost the size of a horse--

Wearing several leather packs bound on with straps, and with an extra pair of limbs, arms unfolding from its sides like threatening hands reaching out to block the way even further. No animal wolf had six limbs, and no wild wolf would be wearing traveling gear.

Daynoren suddenly recognized the raised mane and long tail of the "wolf" preventing them from continuing. "Madam Dana!" he tried to shout, but the wind tore his words away, and it was too late, anyway. The woman had loosed two of her daggers at the obstacle, and Day was sure they had to have struck their mark. Afraid to look, he was glad to be distracted by a sudden sound and movement beside him. That relief turned into terror, though, as he realized that Catame had come back to awareness-- or some kind of awareness, anyway-- and was struggling frantically against the folds of his cloak, which he'd somehow tucked into and around himself in the warmest, and most confining, manner possible. Daynoren nearly grabbed for him, afraid he'd topple right off the horse, hurt himself, or both, but before he could touch his brother, he suddenly stilled, searching the dark swirling with snow ahead of them. There was no time for more relief, however, because his flailing had done what Day was afraid it would. He made another lunge for something, anything, he could catch a hold of to steady the smaller boy, but too slow-- Catame slid right off the gelding's side and into the snow on the side of the trail.

Then something large and furry stood over him, nudging him with its canine muzzle and flicking snow from fluffy ears.

"We must take him inside," Deep Kaur rumbled worriedly, crouching beside the boy and slipping her arms around him to transfer him from the cold snow to her broad back. "Come," she commanded to the whole party. "There is no time, the storm is nearly upon us. I know a place close by."

There was no choice but to follow her.