We Start At the End

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A whore was better than nothing, even if they didn't get along. Claude wasn't sure what had happened to her, but their rocky relationship provoked no feelings of remorse. Looking for her wasn't one of his priorities, it wouldn't be that hard after all. She was attractive when Claude was born, and just as attractive when he left her. That's what she'd be to him, the whore down on the main street with dark black hair and eyes, she hadn't aged at all.

"Life is never fair, best we got used to it young." He said sourly. It didn't mean he liked the fact, but that's how things were. For some life was easy. His half siblings for instance who grew up in the wealth of his father. They'd always known a warm bed and bath at their bidding, food was never scarce, and coin was rolling from their purses like water in the ocean. Endless, deep, vast, and oh how he was jealous. Living on the streets was hard, and he would've done anything just to have one of those golden pieces.

Claude recalled an especially harsh winter, he'd seen his father then. They made eye contact, and he was thrown one shiny piece. Without hesitating he threw it back. As much as he wanted it, he'd never accept it from him. His father was the real bastard, not Claude, his wealth made him a royal prick. Something of a known womanizer within the city, no matter where he went, he acted crudely. Maybe that's why he would never accept the coin. Claude didn't want money from a man who still thought himself higher than another human being.

"What happened to him, your father?" That's the bit Claude was interested in. At least his mother had enough decency to keep him alive, keep him fed and warm when the winter months came around. The way Rose spoke of her father, claiming they would've both died instead, what had happened to him then?

"And Rose?" Claude rested a hand on her shoulder, stopping them both from moving on. "Winter isn't cold in a mansion, and France is lovely. Do consider my offer."​
 
The biggest truth of them all. Life was not fair. People were born into different situations, some stayed in their given roles while others broke free and went higher, or in some cases lower. Life wasn't fair, if you wanted something you had to take it.

"Short story, he died." Rose started. "Long story. He took every honest job he could and they worked him half to death for minimal wages. He didn't even realize he was being used. He tried to climb up the social ladder, but was thrown deeper down, eventually there were less and less jobs for him, he became sicker and sicker and then starved because he couldn't get money to feed me or himself. When I came with medicine for him he asked me if I had stolen it. I said I hadn't but he asked over and over again, in the end I confessed and he told me to give it back to the owner. He died because he thought an honest life would make him wealthy eventually. In the end that foolish thinking killed him."

Some people would have praised him if they had known what he had done. He took shitty jobs for minimal wages so that he could feed his daughter, and he never turned to thievery, not even on his death bed. But how was that any good when he just died because of it? No matter how good of a person one were, it wouldn't matter if they gave themselves a slow death. He could as well have killed himself and let her try to survive on her own from the beginning.

"I might consider your offer, if you'll promise to put on a dress and show me that gorgeous body of yours." She said teasingly. "French men are supposed to be daring, right?"​
 
"You may disagree, but your father was a good man in that way." Claude smiled. "He was good right up until the end, he only wanted to see that you worked hard, fairly."

While he wouldn't deny she was working hard as a thief, it brought nothing more than food to the table. There was so much secrecy involved that one couldn't share their earnings or make public their work seeing as the majority of it was illegal. While Rose may have thought her father a fool, Claude was rather impressed. He'd rather exhaust every resource, every shit paying job in the world so that he might bring about honest earnings for him and his daughter. That was a better life, he only wanted to do the right thing for Rose. A dead father, after all, one put in prison or stabbed in the back, was no father at all.

"Mine would be more proud of me if I made more money, only, I'd have to do it legally with the title bastard." Claude mused. "So, he'd never be proud." He laughed loudly.

Claude rolled his eyes, yet again, at her suggestion he dress up to invite her to his home once it was his. Daring, hm? He leaned towards her, his amber eyes boring holes into her face and a subtle smile which melted the hearts of many women back in France.

"French men are daring, but they are more or less known for other things." He winked playfully and let the message sink in. "Now come, we were finding a way out, and complimenting my country is no way to do so."​
 
Even if he was a good man that did not change that he'd rather see his daughter starve to death than for her to steal. If he truly had thought about the best for her and that she lived a life without crime, then he would have given her away to a convent or something. At least then she would have gotten food and he would have had one less mouth to feed. Maybe even he would have survived. He had been selfish and almost put them both in the grave. Nothing would change her mind about that. Why would she even try to make a father like that proud? Surviving was all that mattered.

Rose arched an eyebrow as Claude gave her a hint about how daring French men were in bed. That smile could melt the heart of any woman. But Rose hadn't cared for her hearts foolishness in years. "For some reason I feel like smacking you." She stated. Something in his teasing just pissed her off a little bit.

"I wonder if it's truly the French men whom are good in bed, or if it's simply the French beds that are good for sex. Last time I were with a French guy it was a major disappointment." She weren't going to mention that he only had been half French and grown up in England. She just wanted to see if Claude were going to defend his people's sexy honor.

As they started to walk, Rose kept a close eye on the path before her. She did not want to fall into another trap.​
 
"How dare you insult the honor of my brethren." Claude crossed his arms in a sort of half angered and half amused state. "Besides, you haven't been with me."

He passed in front of her so she couldn't see the shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Claude was only joking, he had enough respect for his female companion to not make advances on her. It was a fast way to ruin a working relationship, not that he knew from experience. Thieves, by rule, just didn't cross that path. He knew of one too many 'partners' who woke up tied to a bed, the burden of gold taken from their pockets and nothing but a pair of shoes to walk home in. Claude simply knew better than to let Rose do that to him, not that she would. He doubted it, but, the risks involved were too high.

"You do not know why they call it French kissing, do you?" Claude chuckled. "Non, ma petite Rose."

Claude shook his head, what was he thinking. Rose? She'd probably not take up that invitation, if it could be called such.

"Get such thoughts out of your pretty little head." He murmured. "Dresses, sex, my poor French brothers. If only they knew how you spoke of them."​
 
"Hmm... So you're saying you can do better." Rose spoke with a voice that almost craved to follow up on that challenge. Of course she wouldn't have sex with Claude. God no, that was completely out of the question. Never sleep with someone you're working with. That was a big rule for her. It could create all kinds of problems if it became awkward between the two afterwards. Plus, they were friends. She preferred to at least have a couple of months of dating out of the way before taking it to bed.

"Well if it's just a kiss, then I don't mind. But I doubt you'll be able to change my mind." She said, undoubtedly with a challenge in her voice. While kissing seemed to be a big thing for the upper class, she had never seen it as anything shameful if it was done with someone other than the one you love. She did it during drinking games, challenges, or just to mess with her friends all the time. It was just a kiss. No big deal.

"Or maybe you're not man enough to defend your country's honor." Now she was definitely trying to get him over the edge. With a smirk she awaited his response. She definitely believed he would chicken out and she would be able to use that against him every time she wished.​
 
Claude stopped dead in his tracks, wheeling on one heel to meet her. His hands were pressed together, flat palm against the other, as he took a steady step in her direction. He paused, quiet for a moment. Rose seemed awfully eager to insult his French honor, and him unwilling to defend it. A kiss was really nothing, something which may have happened if he were drunk, and they'd think nothing of it. Now though they were perfectly sober, albeit a little tired from their dive into the ruins. So he stood there a while with his hands together, debating what to do about her taunts.

"Vous jouez un jeu dangereux.1​" Claude murmured. He let one hand drop, wrapping it tightly around to her back, the other held her chin steady. "You insult me as well."

Before giving Rose any more time to taunt, he pressed his lips to hers in a delicate matter, at least at first. Her lips were soft, his harsh, though he never meant it to be so. He removed his hand from her chin and slid it into her hair, tangling the locks between his fingers like he might for a lover. If she protested, he could call it a game and walk away. She antagonized him, but, there was a certain pleasure in kissing her that he couldn't deny. Claude slipped his tongue past her lips, giving her one more moment of what he'd call a backfire.

He pulled away, smirking wildly, a glint of playful expression in his Amber eyes. For good measure he wiped his thumb around the edge of her lower lip.

"Viva la France.2​" Claude chuckled. "Ne pas moi, mon amour taquiner, car j'aime mon pays.3​"

Satisfied, he turned his back to her, waving her forward with an outstretched hand. He wanted to return to that country he loved. The wine was good, the women decent, and a view any man could learn to appreciate. Although, he wasn't one to hire whores in the first place, the company was decent. All he had to do was bring the totem back and reclaim the home from his father. It wasn't a difficult game he played, being a thief, so long as no one found him.

The taste of her lips lingered sweetly on his.​

1 - You're playing a dangerous game.
2 - Long live France
3 - Don't tease me, my love, for I love my country.
 
Rose had just started to think that he wouldn't pick up on the challenge, but at that moment, Claude spoke before reaching out to kiss her. His rough lips met hers while his hand started to move to her hair. For a moment she almost thought he would take it further than a kiss. And for a moment she wouldn't have minded it.

Once he released her, her heart beat fast and her cheeks was slightly red. But that barely showed in the darkness, even with their torch. He hadn't been able to convince her much about his country, but he had definitely convinced her about himself. Rose touched her lip with one finger. Who would have thought that a kiss could be so enchanting.

"You do know I don't speak French right?" She protested, having no idea what he had been saying during all that time. Non and Ma petite Rose had been used so many times now it would be impossible not to understand them. But anything else was far too complicated. "If you don't want me to speak Norwegian to you, you better translate yourself next time." She warned him. That would be an interesting journey. One speaking in French, another Norwegian, and no one understanding any of it.

"I stand corrected. It seems like France has a right to be called the country of love after all." Rose finally admitted wile she walked after him. Though she did doubt that everyone were as skilled as Claude, and at the same time she did also doubt he were the best. There was always someone that could do it better, but in this case it probably had more to do with taste than of actual skills.​
 
"I like it when it's a mystery, it's more fun that way." Claude winked back at her. "I simply told you not to tease me, my country is great, and so on."

It wasn't a lie, leaving out the bits of calling her 'my love' and 'long live France'. Out of context it didn't sound so sensual any more, especially without the husky tone of his voice and the darkness of the caves to cover their faces. If anyone were to repeat his words, it might sound like he was truly defending his country, but not in the means of love, and more so in a political affair. He tapped his hand against his lips, to reaffirm he'd actually done it. Yes, he thought, and it wasn't bad.

"You may speak whatever language you like. I don't remember when we settled on English anyways." Claude shrugged. It might have had something to do with the fact that the French man didn't speak Norwegian, and the Norwegian didn't speak French. English was middle grounds for the both of them, and still came from the same roots as most European langues. Still, he slipped up from time to time and reverted to his original language. This was especially prevalent when he was angry or confused, as quick thoughts were harder to translate on the tip of his tongue.

​
 
"Du har rett. Vi har aldri blitt enige om et språk. Jeg skal huske at for fremtiden.1​" Rose grinned. She just wanted to know if he also would feel irritated over not understanding what his companion was saying. Considering how he had spoken about it, it almost seemed as if he wouldn't mind if they couldn't understand each other. But that theory was always easily tested.

"Kan jeg erte dig på et språk du ikke forstår da?2​" She then asked him, knowing he couldn't understand it. She did wonder if that question in that language on its own could count as teasing. It probably did. Once again she started to cough and the pain seemed to rise in her chest. Damn it, what was wrong with her today? Rose looked down on the hand she had coughed in and noticed a few drops of blood. Had that come from her throat? She fast closed her hand, not wanting Claude to see it. They didn't have time to worry about her now. That way they would never get out.

"We should probably not forget to mark where we're going even now. It's more important than ever to know where we have been to actually find our way out of here." She suggested, finally getting serious again. She picked up a new stone, as she hadn't thought about taking with her the other one she had used the other day. After having found that room, it had seemed pointless. Maybe she had forgotten that the way back would be as much a labyrinth as the way there.

"How's your head feeling today by the way? No side effects of the hit so far?" Rose asked, just to make sure he weren't hiding a bad concussion. That definitely came from the wrong person, as she was the one trying to hide whatever was wrong with her body.


1 ​You're right. We have never agreed on a language. I will remember that for the future.
2​ Can I tease you in a language you don't understand then?
 
Claude didn't mind her speaking another language. The best thoughts always came out of your mother tongue after all, it was harder to translate an automatic response. That was his own personal belief at least, but still, he only found it slightly irritating that he couldn't tell what she was saying and warned himself to talk in English the future. He made a few unimportant comments in French, nothing she'd need to know, more or less he wasn't willing to translate.

He took up to marking the walls, backtracking some to the pit they'd encountered. The old torch made a great marker, the charcoal sliding easily onto the rocky surface. From where they walked, he drew arrows, small marks on the wall indicating where it was safe to tread. They hadn't encountered any traps since the pitfall and he considered them lucky. Rose was developing a small cough, but other than that, there was still much to worry about. He was used to the countless spikes and holes they'd been finding, and so far, nothing.

"My head?" Claude repeated. "I feel alright, a little dizzy. I will be fine."

To be honest he wasn't sure. He'd smacked his head in the past, but nothing like this. Sliding down a chute only to hit his head into the first rock at the bottom wasn't exactly as simple as a butt to the head with a hilt of a sword. Those two things were different, and came with different pains. Judging this wound was proving difficult for him.

"Yes, I am fine for now." He reaffirmed.

When the marking was done, he returned to the path at hand. The traps were still missing, and his brow raised in question the longer they walked.

"Where have the traps gone?" He asked. "Did they expect us to fall so surely?"​
 
Rose wasn't too sure if he actually felt fine, considering he felt it necessary to reaffirm his stance. But as long as it only was a bit of dizziness, then it shouldn't be a problem for now. It was just to remember to check themselves up in the closest hospital once they were out of there. As long as they weren't dying, it should be fine.

"It is kind of strange, isn't it." She replied, also slightly confused by the lack of traps. Before they hadn't been able to take a left turn without running into something, now there only seemed to be one a bit now and then. "Maybe they believed no one would survive the last one." She offered as a solution. "Or maybe there is some other more invincible trap waiting. We have run into poisonous air before."

At that very moment, she could not smell anything awfully strange in the air, and they did not share a common symptom so far, so they should probably be fine for now. But it would be a bit freaky if there was a odorless, tasteless and invincible poison floating around them, and now when she had told them both about the possibility, she became incredibly paranoid. Damn, maybe she should just shut her mouth for once. She did not need more paranoia put on her mind.

"Though it could also be that they had some kind of trap waiting for us in that treasure room. Maybe we were just lucky and that trap had stopped working already." If they had a trap which could kill people without ever failing, then of course they wouldn't worry with too much traps after that room. Sometimes people just failed to realize that their equipment could malfunction if it stood unused for too long, or if it had been used too often.​
 
"I highly doubt it." Claude stopped dead in his tracks. "Everything else works, so why now? Why does it stop now?"

What exactly could have been so dangerous back in that room, yet had gone unnoticed to the both of them? It wasn't exactly a large room. Perhaps they'd just picked a dead end, and they'd find another maze, and turn around to go back inside. Was it the action of going back inside the treasure room which might be dangerous? Claude doubted that, too, as they'd demolished their only path back by opening up the floor. It wasn't really their fault, to say, it was just another trap set for some unlucky soul who happened to want the same idol they did.

He was asking too many questions. They were missing something and he couldn't see what it was. Claude turned to Rose, hand up against his chin in careful consideration of their situation.

"You're not feeling sick? We can rule out poison that way." Claude nodded his head. "No wounds, no odd pricks, nothing of the sort?"

He held out his hands, checking his nails, his skin, just anything! Anything that might give way to a disease or infliction, there had to be something he could pick up on. However, after scrutinizing himself, he couldn't find a single mark. There was nothing but the obvious head wound and a bit of hunger, nothing he couldn't overcome with rest and a few bandages. He wasn't Rose, though, and she'd have to let him know if something was wrong if they were going to get out of that hellhole called a ruin.

(I apologize for my ever late replies. School started back up, and my weeks are still unsteady.)​
 
"It can't be poison." Rose stated immediately. "You're completely fine, and we have taken the exact same route all the time so the gas should have poisoned us both in that case." She explained. Obviously she just didn't want to tell him that she wasn't feeling too well. Telling people that she was weak, even if it was due to something she couldn't control, wasn't something she could easily do. "Before we both have the same symptoms, we can probably rule out poison."

But the thought of poison made her think about it a bit deeper. What if only she had been poisoned somehow? But how could that have happened? The only time she walked alone was when Claude was sleeping, but he took the same way the next day. Maybe the poison could get in some other way. But she hadn't gotten stung by anything, she didn't have any wounds from where it could enter if it wasn't airborne. No, she wasn't poisoned, just a bit paranoid and sick. Once again she coughed and the pain spread to her head, giving her a major headache. Damn it, she thought.

"I've just got a bit of a cold, that's all. If you start to cough, then we should start to worry." She told him and headed forward. A bit now and then she actually thought that she were going to die at any moment, but just as fast as the thought came, she forced it away. She was just a little bit sick, and they could check it once they got out of there. There was no way she could have gotten poisoned if Claude wasn't feeling unwell too.​
 
"Wait."

Claude had a bit of an idea. They'd followed the same route, taken the same steps, and for the most part breathed the same air. The only, and it was quite literally the only other difference between what Claude had done and what Rose had done was that Rose was the first to touch the totem. He didn't believe in curses, but who was to say what was on the thing? She'd picked it up first, held it first, the touch alone may have triggered something, he just didn't know what that was. Claude followed after her, eager to get a look at her hands.

"You touched the- the totem first, right?" He asked. "That's gotta be it, you touched it first, I know you did. What if there was something on it? Show me your hands."

He reached out to take them, but was thrown into a new confusing loop. There was nothing on her skin, no discoloration or pin pricks that he could see. They were scraped up from being inside the ruins, but there was nothing which might have come from a small poke. He examined them, scrutinized every last crease on every last finger until he was satisfied, or dissatisfied he would admit. Nothing.

"But. That's got to be it, that's the only thing!" Claude exclaimed again. "The set no traps, there had to be something on it, and now you're coughing, Rose."

His reasoning was growing paper thin, but that had to be it. Right?​
 
Sure, Rose had touched it first. Actually, she had been the only one to touch it as Claude had refused to do so. But there was no way it could have poisoned her. She hadn't felt it stinging her hand or anything, and she didn't have any cuts for a poison to get into. It was true that she had started to feel sick after she had touched it, and she had even fainted just moments after picking it up. But still....

She let him examine her hands as thoroughly as he pleased, but he still didn't find anything out of the ordinary which was a relief. It must mean that she just were a little bit sick. There was nothing unusual going on. But Claude didn't seem to believe that explanation at all.

"I've become sick before Claude." Rose finally said with a sigh after some moments of watching him in his confused state. "Remember when we searched through the mountain tunnels a few years ago? I developed a bad cough at that time too, only three days after we had started to explore it. We were still able to finish the mission, and I didn't die. I just had to rest a week once we got back into town to make my fever go down. It's not unusual to catch a cold."

But coughing blood were. She had heard stories of people coughing blood even though they weren't deadly sick, so it might just be that she had some kind of infection in her throat that would pass soon. But it couldn't be poison. They had already seen too many flaws in that theory. If it had been airborne, then Claude would have gotten it too. If it had come from the totem, then she should have a wound from it, or it should have touched an already existing wound of hers, but while she were a bit bruised up, she didn't have any open wounds where the totem figure had touched her.

"You're too paranoid. Even if it was poison we wouldn't be able to do anything about it down here. No matter if it's poison or a common cold, I will still go to the doctor as fast as we are above ground. If you're that worried, try to focus on finding the way out instead." Rose then added. It felt horrible both for herself and for Claude to say that there was nothing they could do if one of them had been poisoned, but it was the truth. They weren't doctors, they didn't have medical herbs, they couldn't cure unknown poisons. If one of them got poisoned, their only rescue would be a doctor, though usually they couldn't help much either. Even poison experts had to know what poison one had gotten into their system to be able to cure it, otherwise they might make it worse.​
 
Claude pursed his lips in frustration but said nothing else. So long as it was just a cold, then he'd be fine with the coughing fits. If there were blood, or it became unbearable, if she had a fever, there were so many little things. If anything went wrong he'd barrel is way out of the ruins. He wasn't about to lose his partner to a cold, or poison. Whatever it was, he screamed internally at how paranoid he was being. Rose was right.

They pushed on, passing yet another series of paths. They had the choice of going forward, the path split into two, and there was one more path which led to the right. Claude chose for them, going to the right instead of either of the frontward paths. It gave him a bad vibe, having to chose between nearly the exact same path. Right felt, for a lack of a better term, right.

"This way." He walked aimlessly forward.

The way grew dark, his torch couldn't reach all the edges of the room. He felt fine honestly, but why was Rose ill? Claude turned back to look at her, the flaming red hair illuminated by the bits of his fire. Her face looked so pale, and she'd cough, his heart beat nervously at every noise. Just a cold. He told himself. Rose has been sick before, she's fine. Everything is fine.

There were still no traps, and that began to terrifying him beyond belief. Nothing tried to stop them from leaving, which left the sinking feeling in his gut that there was no way out. In the end, they'd be like the skeletons back in the start. They were so close to the end, so close to making it back out, but death had found them first. Claude didn't want to play that game with death, he wanted to get out, live, just long enough to make sure to put his father to shame.​
 
Rose breathed out in relief. Finally he seemed to have let it go. They couldn't be held up forever because of his paranoia. But even she started to get worried now. Why weren't there any more traps? Had they truly given up by now? Maybe there were no exit from where they were. Maybe if one crossed the falling floor that was the end of the line. What if the only exit was on the other side of that fallen floor.

She forced herself to stop thinking about it. The more negatively they thought, the less their chances of surviving would be. As long as they had positive thoughts, they could continue even if they got close to dying. They had to hold on to what little hope there was.

Walking in silence for what seemed to be an eternity, Rose could feel her body getting worse and worse for every step. Her chest ached horribly, as if knives were twisting and turning inside it. Her head hurt, and she started to believe that it would fall off her throat at any moment. It did not feel as if her neck would be able to hold it for much longer. Even her legs started to become affected eventually. It felt like she was trapped in one of those dreams where you couldn't run because the legs felt like they were filled with cement. Even so she forced herself to smile when Claude turned around to give her a look.

The coughing hadn't given in either. Actually it started to get worse as the hours passed. Every time she cough in her hand, she rubbed it off on the right side of her pants, which soon started to form a dark spot from the blood she had coughed up from time to time.

"Claude... I think.. I'll have to.." Her knees gave in and she fell to the floor. She was exhausted, but still she believed she could move on if she just got some rest. Her body might have showed Claude another picture though, as she sat on the ground shivering, with a hand against her head, almost hoping that it would relieve the pain.

"I need.. to rest.. just a couple of minutes." She breathed. She definitely thought 12 hours of sleep would help more for her to recover, but she knew they had to get going. She couldn't slow them down or else they would never get out of there.​
 
"Rose!"

Claude pivoted around on his heel to try and catch her, but she collapsed in a heap on the floor with her hands clutching her head. She shook wildly, curled up against the wall, and he briefly wondered if she could hear him at all. He placed a hand on her shivering shoulder, trying to calm her, and that's when he noticed how cold she was. Like ice, her skin was frozen at the touch, but she also looked feverish. That didn't add up, and Claude was once again worried mad about whether or not she'd been poisoned by the totem.

"You can rest, sure, but not for too long, alright?" He only said it because he was worried she wouldn't wake up. It was so sudden that she'd fallen to the floor, after hours of silent walking. Claude hadn't expected this at all.

He sat down beside her and pulled her weak form into his lap. Claude cradled her there, acting more the part of a protective mother than a partner in crime. The whole time he'd been worried about her, and now this was one strike against Rose's claim she was fine. Rose was certainly far from it. He pulled her hands away from her face, noting that she was feverish after all. Sure, chills, cough, a fever, all the signs pointed to a common cold but he didn't want to believe it was as simple as that. There were different signs, more dangerous ones, which implied the ruins themselves wanted them gone.

There hadn't been any traps, no? He reasoned in his head. So, obviously something had to kill them off, why not something like a cold, or a curse?

He scoffed. Curses didn't exist. He knew better than to believe in superstition and wives' tales such of the like. Even so, the eerie darkness around them gave way to something more sinister than traps failing, or colds. No, Claude had a sinking feeling in his gut that something was wrong, and whether or not Rose agreed was fine by him.

"Just stay here, stay warm." Claude whispered. He took a small roll from his pack, a thin blanket he used to get away from the dirt, and wrapped it around her shoulders.

We'll get out.​
 
She must have caught something really bad to fall apart like that. Maybe it was something she got on her hands when touching that skeleton arm the day before. The same hand she touched her food with. But could sicknesses really develop that fast? Who knew. She didn't really want to bother thinking about why she was sick at the moment. She'd much rather just fall asleep and wake up healthy the next day. But she couldn't.

They had to get out of there as fast as possible. Not only because she needed a doctor, but because they probably would starve if they didn't find a way out soon. Living on insects didn't take you very far. And they usually escaped when they saw light, so it would be hard to actually catch them.

The blanket didn't help much. For a moment she almost considered putting her clothes on fire just to get rid of the cold. But she knew that no matter how warm she got she wouldn't notice it. If she had a fever then she would feel cold no matter what.

"No.." She shook her head slowly so that she wouldn't make herself dizzy. "We need to get going." She paused to take a few breaths. "The faster we find our way out.. .. The better." Even when she wasn't exhausted after a long walk, she still had a hard time saying a full sentence without resting.

Why was she feeling so sick? It didn't feel like any other fever she had ever had. If anything it felt more like something was eating on her from the inside than an actual sickness. Hadn't she heard of something like that before? If she could recall correctly there existed a meat eating sickness that made the body rot from the inside. But that progressed much faster than hers seemed to do. She didn't have any visible signs of it yet, like skin turning blue or flesh wounds suddenly appearing. But maybe... Great, now she were making herself paranoid.​
 
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