Some sneezes are more hazardous than others.

[skysung]

Kitten sneezes.

For most people, this wouldn't be such a remarkable thing, but then, most people are not sixteen year old dragons who have never, aside from a single case of indigestion, been sick in their lives. Most people also don't sneeze gouts of flame.

Kitten flings herself at the curtain she just set on fire, tearing it down and stomping on it. When she coughs smoke, the dragon eyes her surroundings and makes for an exit. She has to get outside. On stones, preferably. Somewhere she can't burn a building down around herself and anyone else who happens to be inside it.

She did see the message about illness, but Kitten assumed it wouldn't affect her. Immortals don't get sick. That she is now, and that fatalities were mentioned? Well, that's worrying.

Kitten is thoroughly miserable in her first illness, blue scales turning grey as she sulks about just how awful she feels. She is, after all, still a baby, however intelligent she may be. As time wears on, she gets more and more exhausted, color slipping out of her scales as they fade to near white. She'll have far less energy and patience for attempting to deal with communication barriers the more tired she gets.

Much of her investigation of the city so far has been done while camouflaged, scales blending in with her surroundings, so a 45 inch long dragon may come as a bit of a surprise to other residents. Right now, she certainly isn't bothering to hide herself.

Comments

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Cassie definitely knew about illnesses, and what was seeming like a bad cold was a lot better than anything else it could be. A death sentence hanging over her head meant that a cold seemed relative blase. Or so she hoped. She prayed that was all it was and her life was just normal and a cold and...

A dragon.

Standing there holding a tissue to her mouth for when she coughed, Cassie just satred. She wasn't even sure what to think but that was, she was sure of it, a dragon.

"Oh. My. Uhmmm... You don't look well," says the lady with red rimmed eyes and a nose to match, and her words thick from the head cold she had. "Are you okay?"

Yep, she was asking a dragon questions.

[skysung]

Kitten doesn't look well, it's true, but she points to Cassie and shakes her head. Cassie looks no better. Misery all around, it seems.

The dragon finds herself more and more sympathetic with her human friends and family. She always disliked seeing them sick, of course, but she had no experience of her own to give her a basis for understanding the actual sensations of an illness. Broadening experience or not, she'd just as soon feel better now, thanks.

As for whether she's okay, Kitten huffs out a frustrated snort and tilts her head to the side briskly, neither a positive nor a negative gesture. Her shoulders aren't really made for shrugging. Kitten isn't sure whether she's alright. The illness doesn't seem too bad now, but that message about potential fatalities was far from reassuring.

She gestures at Cassie with her snout. What about Cassie? Is she alright?

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"I know," she said, getting that gesture. Or hoping she had. "I think there's a bug going around and everyone is getting sick," she said, moving closer. If they were both already sick, then the only thing she had to worry about was fire but, honestly, Cassie was taking the chance. How could she not when there was a dragon here. A wee, cute, sickly dragon.

"Do dragons normally get sick?" She was not sure why she thought the dragon understood her, but maybe because she was reacting to the questions she assumed she understood the human language. "I bet we can find a vet around here. Or a doctor. Or whatever it is you need," she said, ever the Librarian and trying to help."

She stopped, smiling slightly. "I'm not too bad. I don't know. They warned me I could get sick a lot, because of my body," she admitted, thinking about her brain tumor.

[skysung]

Kitten shakes her head emphatically in response to the question, croaking a very petulant negative response. No. No, they do not. Dragons are Immortals. They don't get sick, and they don't die unless they're killed. The fact that she's sick at all, though, means that this illness could kill her if it gets bad enough, she thinks. Kitten just hopes it won't get worse. No one here is familiar with dragon physiology, she assumes, and so she isn't sure what good a doctor will do.

Cassandra's final statement is much more worrying, though, because if she's already more susceptible to illness than any other mortal, this could go badly for her. Kitten tilts her head, chirping what's clearly a concerned question. Why did she need that warning, and is she alright?

[anotheradjective]

"That's not good then, is it? You poor thing." She made a sound, really worried about her. "And then this place made you all sick and you feel miserable, don't you?"

She wished she had an idea of what to do for her, wondering if she should go back through to the Library and see what she might be able to find out. She hadn't thought about looking before about dragons and their care, and now she was wishing she had. "We'll see what we can find you. Promise."

Cassie sighed then, knowing she didn't want to burden the darling but she had brought it up. "I have a brain tumor. It's not too bad right now, and so far I'm feeling right as rain," she said, straightening and trying to look healthy. "So we'll hope it stays that way and I'll do what I can for you and others."

[skysung]

Kitten chirps something halfway between pleased at the commiseration and annoyed at the fact that she's sick in the first place. She is glad that Cassie has some sympathy.

At the mention of finding her something, Kitten's head perks up a little. She doesn't think there's much a doctor could do for her, but she wouldn't mind something to eat. Kitten could get by without food. It's not as if she'll starve. But it would be comforting and appreciated. With a hopeful little whistle, she mimes taking a bite out of something and chewing. That's something that shouldn't be too hard to do for her.

She doesn't know anything about tumors or cancer, but anything affecting the brain is a bad thing. That much is more than obvious. She'll be keeping a wary eye on Cassie from now on, healthy-looking or not. That much is probably clear from the considering gaze and the soft, low whistle of worry.