Quintus Nero Adravendi-Mathias had been absent for some time. He did not know how, but sickness had struck him on one of his journeys away from Valhalla. A vague tiredness had shaken him at first, and he had sought refuge in a strange wood, curling beneath the trunk of a great willow tree before drifting to sleep. When he awoke, everything had changed. He felt soreness deep in his bones, and felt his limbs quiver with weakness as he struggled to pull himself upright. Something was very wrong, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. Slowly he would blink, eyelids closing and opening over his sea-green gaze, deliberately shaking sleep from his being. It took him a long time to truly grow aware. The scent of blood was strong in the air, and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. He found his four limbs shaking, though he attempted to keep his body still and calm. A strange sort of panic crept into his mind and he began to walk, paws slapping gently against the ground as he went. He was close to home now, he was certain -- but he suddenly felt as though he was being followed. The scent of blood lingered in the air, chasing him, refusing to leave him be. It was strong, so close to him, and he felt his eyes sting from the pungent odor. He felt his chest heave as his pace increased, his gentle jog turning into a full-out run. The male felt his vision blur and his head began to pound. He knew he was close to Valhallan lands now. He felt his legs give out beneath him suddenly, and a groan left his lips as he tumbled to the earth. He was oblivious to the state he was in, suddenly confused and afraid, feeling quite ill in a way he could not pinpoint. Was Erani here, he wondered? Would she scold him for being away from Valhalla for so long? Perhaps she would know what was wrong with him. He tilted his head slightly to the sky, letting loose a call for anyone who would listen.

Erani

She had stepped away from the quarantine, needing a breath of air that wasn?t laden with the illness. One ear tipped back slightly as she padded along the plains, as a thought occurred to her. Air circulation might be beneficial to sick wolves. Gods she hoped this malady died off without anymore deaths? Quintus? voice rolled over the plains, and Erani turned to look for her grandson. Deep blue gaze fell on his form, and she was bounding forward in moments. He too had fallen ill. Where he had vanished off to, she had not idea. She wasn?t even mad at him for his lack of attendance at the meeting. She was more worried about his health. ?Quintus. Come with me.? Her eyes were worried, but she forced herself to be calm, coming to stand beside him and lead him toward her den. ?Come with me, my grandson.? Her voice was soothing, encouraging, as she began to help him to his paws. Please, Luna, don?t let a seizure attack him now. He was already afraid, and the seizures might throw him into a panic.

The stinging in his eyes grew intense, and he shook his head fiercely, as though it might rid the pain from him. It seemed as though a ringing sound had begun between his ears, inside his head itself, a terrible building pressure that only grew stronger as Erani's voice sounded beside him. He felt his chest heave as his breathing grew more rapid, feeling his paws quiver as he struggled to stand. The pathetic, helpless feeling inside him began to grow into something akin to frustration, though he didn't understand why. "'Kay," he managed to whimper shakily. Her voice was familiar and comforting, despite the confusion that wracked him to the core. He took a few slow steps, before he felt his head turning without him intending it too, his limbs slowly giving out from beneath him again as his body began to convulse. His eyes clamped shut, a whine escaping his lips as he braced himself against the unknown.