Sickness: to yield or conquer

Landon stumbled out of bed.  It was half past the time he wanted to be out, flaunting, but he felt the stiffness in his small body.  Dice was at the bedside, the Impup’s paws up on the bed frame while large, white eyes stared at him.  Of course, a weak kick in the imp’s direction did little to deter it.

He did not have the energy.  But yesterday he was fine!  Quite fine, in fact.

Dice padded forward.  The imp seemed to grow larger, body hazy and dark.  Landon’s face turned into a scowl as he stared down the approaching creature.  It took only a second more before Dice made itself comfortable right beside him.  The weird body of the imp pushed onto his while the Impup placed its face near his own.

Those large eyes were round.  Round, staring, empathetic before they closed as it rested against him.

It was not something he was used to.  Landon shifted on his quilt and wiggled in place while Dice lay there.  He still wanted to move!  To go!  To do the things that he was barred from by mere… what was this? Illness? He was always a healthy bun…

Well, not quite always, but he liked to think otherwise.

Dice was adamant on shifting beside Landon with every one of his own wiggles out and away.  Away and off of his bed; he stumbled off instead of gracefully landing as he usually did.  It was a tangled web of ‘should’ and ‘would’ and ‘why not’ in his little bunny head, especially as he used both hooved paws to comb down his fur as though it would have him focus.  Focus, direct his thoughts and-- through some magic, perhaps?-- he could get over this sickness on a one, two…

He sneezed.  Violently.  It was a sudden jerk forward that nearly brought the bun toppling right over!  When he had himself firmly on both feet, he held his paws out to both sides and took a long, deep breath.  With every passing moment, he just felt worse and worse.  Was it a fever? Was he just overheating? Maybe the day was warmer than it was usually.

Slumber pranced over, as timid as ever.  While the Freign’s legs did not quite shudder as it looked as though it would, the small thing began to nudge and nose Landon.  At one point, frosty nose touched his face and the Freign reeled back.  That was the most attention he will be receiving from the creature, as it stumbled away with such a fierce shake of the head that Landon thought it would more likely walk into a wall.

That did not happen, to his dismay, but it was a very real possibility.

Dice opened an eye from the bed and let down a paw.  Such a generous gesture!  The Impup did not utter a sound, but waved to get its owner’s attention.  The attention of which it was not granted.  Instead, Landon waddled off to the kitchen.  He wanted something to drink.  Perhaps a nice, mellow tea.  Having spent so much time with Dove, he had picked up a wider selection and now possesses infinite more knowledge of the art that teamaking is than he had prior.  On the other hand, he had passed on what he knew on baking.  Bread was a favourite of his.  Raisins, carrots, bananas and more!  Oh, the multitude of things he managed to cram into a loaf was astounding to himself.

With the mental gloating, he felt so much lighter on his feet.  No more did he feel like a bumbling bundle of idiot!  No more was he-- oh, he had walked right into the corner of the counter.

Landon sat on the floor, stunned.  And with two paws on his face as he hissed words of dismay.

Dice had found its way beside him.  The Impup sat there, little tail waggling this way and that while it clearly did everything in its power to not stare down its only master.  As sweet as that was, Landon wanted to be alone for now.  He was often alone before, except when he had work, and he was not entertaining the idea of company of a little Impup that was intensely focused on the job of making his life an absolute mess.

…How dare he let Hutch and whatever her name was sweet talk him into this abuse.

After a few minutes more, Landon pushed himself up.  Once more, that slight, nearly distant ache ran through him again.  It was time to face the bitter music that he was not particularly well.  Or, of course, he could push ahead regardless.

…

He got to the fridge and opened it.  A cool drink-- the fizzy kind, too, with a hint of hint of ginger and lemon-- would do the trick.  Once he retrieved the frosted glass bottle, he set it down on the counter after he took the little steps up and looked for his bottle opener.  The satisfying ‘pop’ and ‘psssshhh’ of the drink was almost enough to remedy his problems all together.  A deep drink from the bottle and he felt renewed.

Perfect.

He knew it was just a momentary weakness.

…

But he was back in bed within the hour.  Dice curled up by his side, more amused by this entire roundabout afternoon than anything else.  The Impup would have called in itself, but it lacked the voice and direction to.  Perhaps just to mess with Landon’s phone would do it some good.  After all, sick or not, a day cannot go by without a touch of madness.