Esti had just awoken in her den. The ground was loftily covered by one of the first solid snowfalls of the season. Even Esti could appreciate its beauty. She had told Ashmedai all about it, and he had been so excited. Every time it started to snow, he would run out and nip at the falling flurried. He would be stoked. Esti wouldn't be surprised if he was already out in the snow playing. A small smile crossed her face thinking about it. That was until she heard a small groan at her side. Confused, she turned to see Ash huddled in the back of the den, shivering. Did he already go play and get too cold? That was odd since he had fluffed out well during the fall. Maybe he got wet somehow- that could be dangerous. Esti crawled over to her son and nudged him. He barely moved and simply groaned her name (her name being "momma", of course). Esti began to worry. She pressed her nose to his and felt how warm and dry his nose felt. She sniffed at his breath and the scent of sickness lingered. A shiver ran down the mother's spine. Was this the plague, returning for her son? Could she have given it to him, somehow?
"Ashmedai? Ash baby, how do you feel?" she asked hurriedly. The stormy boy mumbled, "Not so good Momma," in reply, "I know baby, I know. You're gonna be okay, alright? Ashmedai, alright?" She prodded for a response and the boy finally nodded weakly. Oh gods or goddesses, what was she going to do? Esti burst out of the den and called to the healers, marking out Cascade and Rhythm for good measure. If they didn't show up in her time of need, they would pay later. Ashmedai was going to be okay. Cascade and Rhythm were going to show up and heal him. Everything was going to be fine, just fine.
