For a long time, all Catame knew was nightmare, ice, and fire. He alternately shivered uncontrollably and burned so hotly that he tossed away from the nearest source of heat. Hands swiped, grabbed, and clutched at him, and he struggled, but he had no strength to keep them away. He didn't know any of the voices around him, for they all blended into a blur of sound that pounded in his head and dizzied him even more. All he wanted was to be alone and sleep, but neither solitude no sleep would come, and the half-waking, half-dreaming state he was confined to was anything but restful.

At last, some of the din and chaos around him began to subside, and something soft and strong folded around and under him. At first, afraid of more half-real torments, he tried to pull away, but whatever it was held him fast and started humming a low, gentle tune that seemed familiar and more comforting than anything else in this strange world of fever and image. Unable to escape, swiftly loosing the will to, Catame finally gave in and snuggled into the presence who sang to him. Sometime during the song, he forgot to be afraid, and in that moment sleep crept up and surprised him with darkness and silence.

Catame woke to warmth-- not the uncomfortable heat of that inner Fire, but the soothing warmth of a fireplace and a large, furry something supporting him. He opened his eyes partly, but the lids seemed very heavy and a crackling light made his head start throbbing again, so he let them fall closed again, drawing his arms and legs closer to him against his fluffy pillow. It was rising and falling gently under him, the rhythm of easy breathing, and for a moment he couldn't imagine what it was.

Then something resting around his shoulders, that he hadn't noticed before, moved slightly, and Catame stiffened in fear-- or tried to. His body twitched, but wouldn't obey him any further. Something was wrong, what had happened to him? Fighting a panic he knew he didn't have the energy for, he struggled to open his eyes again.

"Hush, hush," a familiar voice crooned in his ear, and another hand, one covered in fur, brushed back his hair, which felt damp and dirty against his forehead.

"Kaur?" he whispered, his voice unable to get any louder.

"Yes," the wolf daemon answered. "Hush now, cubling, you are very sick."

Was that what was wrong? He was sick? He'd been sick before, but it never felt like this.... "I dreamed you," he murmured tiredly. "Am I still dreaming?"

Ignoring his words, or perhaps he just missed her answering of them, Kaur shifted beneath him so he was sitting up a little more. "Do you think you can drink, cubling?" she asked softly, and then one of her hands was gone from him and suddenly holding a wooden bowl full of water. Suddenly very thirsty, Catame freed his hands from the ball he'd clenched them in under his chin, buried in Kaur's fur, to take it and guide it to his mouth. They shook and he spilled some of the water down his shirt, gasping and shuddering at the freezing feeling, but then Kaur steadied it so he could get a little more down. Even so, he had run out of strength for swallowing and holding the bowl before his thirst was nearly quenched. It was unwillingly that he let his hands drop and head fall back to Kaur's shoulder.

"'M so tired... where are we?" He squinted around him, but couldn't see more than Kaur's shaggy form and the flickering light-- it had to be a fire-- just ahead of him, obliterating sight of all things beyond it.

"A cave not far from where I found you," Kaur answered. "A blizzard came, and if we had not found it, you might have been lost in the snow."

"'M already lost," Catame mumbled, curling up again against her side. Lost in exhausted and cold and nightmare. He knew what those awful things were, now, nightmares borne of fever. If only he could remember that in the middle of them!

A new thought made him struggle back to wakefulness, the sudden fear that he was alone, despite the comforting affection of his tutor so close to him. "Where's Day?" he forced himself to ask, shivering and trying to sit up again with little success.

"He is fine, he is with us."

That wasn't enough. Even though he couldn't manage much movement, Catame pried his eyes open, unfocused, and looked around as best he could, one hand digging into Kaur's fur and the other stretching out blinding. "Day, Day please--"

There was a moment of silence, then suddenly someone had caught his flung-out hand. "Cat?" That voice was even more familiar, full of worry like it often was, and Catame smiled, relaxing again. "Cat, it's okay, I'm here." The grip on his hand disappeared, but he didn't need it anymore, he knew he wasn't alone. There was a sound like rustling of fabric and shifting of blankets, and then Kaur's arm lifted and another warm body curled around his, protectively.

"'M a'ight," he whispered, snuggling back into his brother's arms and letting sleep take him again. Kaur and Day would keep him safe.