Infection had run rampant down the slender structures of his limbs, however far from crippled the pale King had certainly seen better days; loitering by the gaping mouth of his den. However no less relentless, Isardis would avoid the title of his leadership; mellowed perhaps by the temperature that had spoiled his focus. A swift bark would call her to him, for her welcoming scent seemed to always loiter somewhere nearby. Her dedication to him and Glaciem was undeniable, and he knew she would aide him in any way he requested, even if perhaps her new title was to be short lived.

She would scamper to his side, much like a child. She had already been in the nearby vicinity - having been told of his poor condition. Part of her had been content to stay away, only to keep from hurting his pride at her seeing him in anything but his prime. But the other part of her had ached for his touch, the beating of his heart, the warmth of his flesh. And so when he called to her she would not refuse him - hastening to his den of solitude in mere moments. ?My love,? she cooed, in a much different tone than the one she once used when calling him her King. It hadn't been so long ago that he'd told her of his affection, and perhaps the sentiments were partially to remind him of that day - of a better time than this. ?Eris tells me you are ailing.? He should have healed by now, his wounds should have stitched themselves - knit together and begun to solidify. But alas, he still ailed - worse now than when it had just been blood and gore to ravage him. ?speak,?

He would lean to her warmth as if she were a magnetic field to his heart, his body a missile that sought her heat as if it were his only purpose. Alas, he was ashamed to present himself to her in such a condition, yet she would have known very well herself the realities of being exposed to the tearing flesh of war; infection and ailment was always a possibility. As much as he liked to believe he were above nature and her thrashing ways. ?Regretfully yes, however not for long I can assure you,? his voice bore a husk of determination, as if his mind defied the sickness of his body. ?Sendoa, I need you to take over until I am well,? he would not allow her room to refuse, his forehead burning with the heat of his bloodstream as his haunches fell to rest beneath him, retracting from her touch.

He was hot, dreadfully so. She nearly let out a whimper of sorrow over his condition, but swallowed it down with every other fear in the last moment before it escaped. He needed strength now. He had always been strong for her, she must do the same for him. He affirmed her suspicions, though stubbornly determined that it would not last long. Typical Isardis, though deep down she would wish him to be no different. It was he she loved, faults and all. He then spoke words she never expected him to utter. She would take charge until he was well. His tone let her know that it was not so much a request as a demand - though she wouldn't have said no either way. ?Of course,? she breathed assuredly - confidently. The Ice Queen would set a fire under Glaciem, it was high time they stop lazing about. ?It relieves me to know that you trust me so.? It only served to affirm her thoughts and suspicions that he truly did love her. ?speak,?