The Forest

-20-

"Aria!" He shrieked. He meant to say something more helpful but couldn't manage it in time. The thrashing limbs knocked the bowl askew and molten liquid spilt all over his arm. Birk yelled in pain. The bowl clattered to the floor and the remaining medicine oozed into a milky puddle.
"Birk, darling-" a hand caught the side of her face and cut off her speech. Aria staggered backwards, dazed. A moment later she tasted something metallic on her lips. Meanwhile Birk was hissing in pain across the bed, gripping his scalded arm. The skin had already turned a frightening pink and was steaming against the room's cold air.
Aria touched her mouth. "Go and ice your arm." Her fingertips came back speckled with a spot of blood. She brushed it off on her trousers.
Birk fled from the room without much of an argument. Skilled as he was, Rosin wasn't exactly an easy patient, and he was getting frustrated with trying to treat someone who didn't want to be treated. The girl lay on the bed with her eyes closed, murmuring delirious spew while she tossed and turned.

Aria stood back for a moment. Struggling with the girl wasn't working. Even in delirium Rosin was the strongest person of the tribes, and trying to hold her down was a hopeless effort. They would need the entire scout squadron for that, and even then Aria wasn't sure that they would be able to keep her still long enough to get the medicine down her throat. She wasn't sure that medicine would be of any help even if they drowned her in it. Birk's efforts weren't in vain, he had kept her fever down until now and lulled her into sleep for most of the day, but whatever illness was plaguing Rosin had now reached a point beyond their help.

Aria knelt beside Rosin and placed her palms on the girl's burning forehead. "If you keep trying to sit up, you'll hurt yourself."
Rosin made a sound. It was wavering and strained and didn't mean much, but felt like a go away.
"Darling, you must rest." Her voice went unheeded and unheard. Aria snatched one of the wayward hand into hers and squeezed. "Hush."
Rosin breathed fast. Aria could feel the heat coming off her. She thought that Rosin didn't know why she was fighting— she didn't have the sense to know. It was just her nature to push back against things.
"Hush, Rosin." She murmured, gently knitting their fingers together. "Rest."
And she did, just a little. Her fast breathing softened and the crinkles in her face smoothened. But still, beads of perspiration remained on her face and neck, her hair a damp tangle behind her ears. The fever had reached its peak. If it didn't break now, it never would.

Rosin could think no thoughts and feel no pain— all was a hot, dizzy mess— but something more than senses simmered with the fever. Even without feeling she knew that a balance had been upset. Something was wrong. Something old and quiet and always in the air. It was as though the forest itself was disturbed. By who or what, she didn't know— but the hotter her mind burnt, the stronger the bad feeling grew, and the incessant voice telling her to move became almost unbearable.

The wind shook the house around Rosin and Aria. Every window quaked in its frame and the roof creaked dangerously. Aria took a wary look at the surrounding structure. She felt it too. Maybe she didn't know what it was anymore than Rosin did, but that wasn't the point. The wind was restless and the trees fidgety, like bad weather was coming even though the sky had been clear since dawn.
Aria knew better than to jot feelings down to concrete happenings. It was a feeling that had made Aspen try to stop Azure from leaving the Hollow, it was a feeling that had made her try to keep River from venturing out into the fire. This was nothing to do with weather. The woods were troubled, as they always were before something bad began. And something bad was about to begin. Maybe it already had... she didn't know. Somewhere out in that swelling unrest, her son ran.

Kovu and Rowan flanked his sides, Kovu barking out directions when he saw a change in the tracks. The trees watched the three boys' progression, whispering to each other in the wind when it rattled their boughs. Aspen put it all out of his mind. The wind, the cold, the sound of his tiring breath. All was null until they reached the end of these tracks and found Ronnie's abductor. And when they did— oh, when they did find the ugly bastard that had taken his friend, there would be hell to pay.