(no subject)
Naraht's nap was less than restful. His stomachs kept twisting at random intervals and he had a diffuse ache in his secondary acid glands. However, they were not powerful enough to overwhelm the incredible exhaustion that had come over him soon after he reached his room. They moved him into an uneasy doze which eventually slipped back into deep sleep, only to repeat the cycle again a few mintues later.
When he does finally awaken fully, he feels like hell. His fringe, the most sensitive part of his body, burns while the less sensitive "skin" of his back feels distantly sore. His digestive system clenches and unclenches in a sickening pattern.
Most disturbing of all, he feels cold. No, more than cold, he iss freezing.
Mother taught her children to pay attention to when they felt cold. It took a great deal to make a race whose blood was essentially fluorocarbonated lava to get cold. It generally took full water emersion or exposure to temperatures close to zero Kelvin...
...or infectious disease. Human's raise their body temperature in response to infection. Horta lower theirs.
Damn, he thinks. This is definately no hangover.
Naraht slips off of his basalt bed and heads for the door at a much slower pace than usual. Even that little bit seems to take entirely too much energy. The dingy cast to his skin has deepened and the vapor he is giving off has a pronounced yellow cast to it.
He opens the door to try to find some help.
When he does finally awaken fully, he feels like hell. His fringe, the most sensitive part of his body, burns while the less sensitive "skin" of his back feels distantly sore. His digestive system clenches and unclenches in a sickening pattern.
Most disturbing of all, he feels cold. No, more than cold, he iss freezing.
Mother taught her children to pay attention to when they felt cold. It took a great deal to make a race whose blood was essentially fluorocarbonated lava to get cold. It generally took full water emersion or exposure to temperatures close to zero Kelvin...
...or infectious disease. Human's raise their body temperature in response to infection. Horta lower theirs.
Damn, he thinks. This is definately no hangover.
Naraht slips off of his basalt bed and heads for the door at a much slower pace than usual. Even that little bit seems to take entirely too much energy. The dingy cast to his skin has deepened and the vapor he is giving off has a pronounced yellow cast to it.
He opens the door to try to find some help.