Newt groaned slightly as he pulled open the case. He had managed to rescue the poor nundu cub that had been caught in a trap, but she had been frightened. It really hadn't been the poor creature's fault that she had spat him and tried to scratch his face. She had run away once freed, back to her pack and he had spent an hour or so curled up by the trap, waiting for the pain to recede enough to move.
He stumbled into the case, half falling down the ladder, saved only by the fact that one of the occamy hatchlings was curled up beneath it at a size far larger than it was meant to be. "Hey there..." He muttered. "Sorry, I know you need some food, I'll..." He groaned, trying to stand up, and paused when he caught sight of Dougal. Dougal gazed at him, eyes shining a vivid violent blue, and then he blinked and they were back to their normal amber. Dougal grabbed a bucket of mooncalf pellets and edged away.
Newt frowned a little but didn't have the strength to call him back. He lay stretched out on the occamy, slowly catching sight of some movement out of the corner of his eye. He watched as Pickett climbed up his shelves, past books and jars and scrolls. Pickett knocked a small vial down, and Newt grabbed it on reflex.
It was a bottle of antidote. "Thank you." Newt murmured, opening the bottle and sipping the liquid. It made the blood in his veins feel like fire, burning across his skin, but he knew that would be it cleaning away the poison. He mentally reassessed his current health status from likely to die to severely ill.
He closed his eyes. "I'll feed everyone soon..." He murmured.
He opened his eyes to find that the niffler was sat on his lap, nuzzling against him and squeaking happily. It looked blissfully content, rolling over to expose its stomach. Newt leaned forwards to pet it, whimpering as the room around him lurched. He still felt far too hot and achy, and he could do with a handkerchief, but he was alive.
He tried to get to his feet, only to find that one of the occamy was wrapped around his legs, pinning him in place on its sibling. He was a little thirsty, but he was trapped, so he ran his fingers over occamy scales and niffler fur and let himself rest.
He woke again when a diricrawl chick poked at his face with her beak, his handkerchief held in one claw. He took it with trembling hands, and slept again. The next time he woke, it was to find the mooncalves were all cuddled around him. His body was shaking with convulsions as the last of the venom burned from his body, but they were there keeping him safe. "Good..." He murmured, unsure why he felt quite this exhausted when all he was doing was trying to stay alive.
He was getting very thirsty now, but even without the creatures he lacked the strength to get up. He yawned, trying to find a solution to his problem.
The solution happened when the open case above him filled with clouds, and water came rushing down upon him. The water wasn't freezing, but it was refreshingly cool against his skin, and he luxuriated in it as he opened his mouth and drank his fill. He looked up to find Frank hovering above him, fretting like his mother had when he was little and had come down with a fever from playing with the hippogriffs.
Dougal pushed some paper into his hand, and a pen. Newt looked at the paper curiously, and Dougal pushed his hand again, and then searched on his shelf. Finding what he was looking for he held out a picture of Theseus.
Newt smiled and nodded, trying to form the words he needed to say. He wrote to his brother every week, Theseus would be concerned if he did not hear. His hand was shaking, but the words were still readable. "Brother, Currently unwell. Please don't worry. Creatures are taking care of me. I believe I am somewhere in Borneo. I will see you soon. Newt."
He handed the letter to Dougal, and settled down against the creatures, smiling as Pickett settled down in his hair. He was safe here. There was nowhere in the world he would rather be if he needed help. Frank landed in front of him, leaning forwards to rest his body on Newt's legs, and Newt reached out to pet the magnificent bird, remembering to politely murmur thanks to avoid seeming disrespectful. Frank nodded, and Newt knew that he belonged here. When Dougal returned from sending the letter, he had a mug of tea. Newt nodded and took it, smiling softly.
The next morning, the fever was gone, but still every creature seemed to be taking extra care with him. He couldn't find it in himself to complain, touched that they would be so kind to him. The tea had been a little cold, but he would never complain. Not when they had showed him he mattered to them. (AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9862553)
Fill: Help the Healer (1/1)
He stumbled into the case, half falling down the ladder, saved only by the fact that one of the occamy hatchlings was curled up beneath it at a size far larger than it was meant to be.
"Hey there..." He muttered. "Sorry, I know you need some food, I'll..." He groaned, trying to stand up, and paused when he caught sight of Dougal. Dougal gazed at him, eyes shining a vivid violent blue, and then he blinked and they were back to their normal amber. Dougal grabbed a bucket of mooncalf pellets and edged away.
Newt frowned a little but didn't have the strength to call him back. He lay stretched out on the occamy, slowly catching sight of some movement out of the corner of his eye. He watched as Pickett climbed up his shelves, past books and jars and scrolls. Pickett knocked a small vial down, and Newt grabbed it on reflex.
It was a bottle of antidote.
"Thank you." Newt murmured, opening the bottle and sipping the liquid. It made the blood in his veins feel like fire, burning across his skin, but he knew that would be it cleaning away the poison. He mentally reassessed his current health status from likely to die to severely ill.
He closed his eyes.
"I'll feed everyone soon..." He murmured.
He opened his eyes to find that the niffler was sat on his lap, nuzzling against him and squeaking happily. It looked blissfully content, rolling over to expose its stomach. Newt leaned forwards to pet it, whimpering as the room around him lurched. He still felt far too hot and achy, and he could do with a handkerchief, but he was alive.
He tried to get to his feet, only to find that one of the occamy was wrapped around his legs, pinning him in place on its sibling. He was a little thirsty, but he was trapped, so he ran his fingers over occamy scales and niffler fur and let himself rest.
He woke again when a diricrawl chick poked at his face with her beak, his handkerchief held in one claw. He took it with trembling hands, and slept again. The next time he woke, it was to find the mooncalves were all cuddled around him. His body was shaking with convulsions as the last of the venom burned from his body, but they were there keeping him safe.
"Good..." He murmured, unsure why he felt quite this exhausted when all he was doing was trying to stay alive.
He was getting very thirsty now, but even without the creatures he lacked the strength to get up. He yawned, trying to find a solution to his problem.
The solution happened when the open case above him filled with clouds, and water came rushing down upon him. The water wasn't freezing, but it was refreshingly cool against his skin, and he luxuriated in it as he opened his mouth and drank his fill. He looked up to find Frank hovering above him, fretting like his mother had when he was little and had come down with a fever from playing with the hippogriffs.
Dougal pushed some paper into his hand, and a pen. Newt looked at the paper curiously, and Dougal pushed his hand again, and then searched on his shelf. Finding what he was looking for he held out a picture of Theseus.
Newt smiled and nodded, trying to form the words he needed to say. He wrote to his brother every week, Theseus would be concerned if he did not hear. His hand was shaking, but the words were still readable.
"Brother,
Currently unwell. Please don't worry. Creatures are taking care of me. I believe I am somewhere in Borneo. I will see you soon.
Newt."
He handed the letter to Dougal, and settled down against the creatures, smiling as Pickett settled down in his hair. He was safe here. There was nowhere in the world he would rather be if he needed help. Frank landed in front of him, leaning forwards to rest his body on Newt's legs, and Newt reached out to pet the magnificent bird, remembering to politely murmur thanks to avoid seeming disrespectful. Frank nodded, and Newt knew that he belonged here. When Dougal returned from sending the letter, he had a mug of tea. Newt nodded and took it, smiling softly.
The next morning, the fever was gone, but still every creature seemed to be taking extra care with him. He couldn't find it in himself to complain, touched that they would be so kind to him. The tea had been a little cold, but he would never complain. Not when they had showed him he mattered to them.
(AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9862553)