(no subject)

It was early in the morning, around seven or so, as Alec poked his head into Braxious' room in the Inn. The two of them had been staying there while the house was being worked on. The room was dark and Alec could barely make out the curled form of his son on the bed. A pair of red eyes from Rin looked beadily at him from his perch onto the foot of the bed.

"Com' on Brax, time to wake up and get ready for school," he said carefully treading his way to the bed. Braxious groaned and stired a little. Alec reached down to pat his shoulder gently, but then jerked it back in surprise. Braxious was burning up. Even for a dragon. "Brax?" he nudged his son harder.

There wasn't much of a response. Alec bit his lip nervously. He wasn't a healer or a doctor. He never needed one for Braxious cause Brax never got sick. (Never mind the fact that it would be impossible to explain to the doctor the dragon physiology). He had never, in his ten years of parenting, had to deal with a sick child, much less a sick dragon child.

He didn't know what to do.