Sneezies and sniffles

Exhaustion had forced Gavroche to rest on his way back to Polaris. He had lost track of time, but he had found them, the ones that held his mother. He had been unable to see if Beauregard was kept there too, and the map was hastily notated, but he had done everything he could to memorize the borders of their camp. He’d been careful, careful as he could be, scoping things out. The prisoners were kept more toward the middle, and his mother, though she looked thin, was still as fiery as ever. She had been giving the guard hell when he saw her last and Gavroche knew, once he got the map to his father, that he’d be after the group to get her back. On one paw Bae-Syl was going to be furious that he had left… but the news of where Lucette was, and the fact he hadn’t tried to act on his own would probably save him from part of the earful he was sure to receive.

Gavroche had sought the comfort of flowers when he laid down. They were soft, the petals brushing against his nose and coat. They seemed to tickle him, and Gavroche found himself twitching and turning a bit before exhaustion finally claimed him. He slept deeply, lying spread out across the flower patch wearing his collar and dagger. Minutes turned to hours and, before Gavroche knew it, he had slept through the night and into the next morning.

When he stirred, it was with a twitching nose, and then a violent sneeze that shook his whole body. He pushed himself up with a soft groan, head throbbing as he blinked blurry eyes. What the hell…? Why did he feel even worse than when he had first lay down to sleep? He closed his eyes again, swaying a little as he attempted to breath in through a congested nose. He couldn’t see it, but a golden dusting of pollen was all over his coat from the flowers he had chosen to lay in. His tossing and turning had disturbed it, and now he was paying the price.

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Word Count:
+355
355 / 1500

"Speech," 'Thought.'