Fevers and direction

It was strange to watch the girl go from coherent to unconscious. In less than five minutes. Demaren would have laughed about it if he hadn't felt some concern. He watched her breathe gently, cuddled against the ... hop.
"'Scrubbed my face too hard' please." He muttered, starting to clean up the Kim grain mush. He stacked the dishes carefully and, with some apprehension, left her with the animal. Hurried was his cleaning at the creek, the sun beginning to set. He shook his head at the day thus far.
But when he got back to the site, she was not such an easy sleeper as she had been. She wasn't cuddled up anymore. She was laying almost flat, her limbs twitching very slightly. Her breathing had gone from soft and safe to loud and labored. It sounded like she was suffocating--and for all he knew, she was!
He dropped the dishes and ran to her, pulling her off the hop so she leaned on his arm. The hop quickly got to its feet and snuffled angrily.
"Ashling!" He tried to wake her up, but she only opened her eyes very slightly. They were glazed and unseeing.
"... Berrik..." She whispered. Demaren swallowed some unpleasant feeling that rose inside of him. Once again, the hop was making a fuss, stamping around them and snorting. Demaren jerked his head at it.
"Look--Friend?--don't get mad at me because I'm trying to help her too!" He stood quickly, swinging her into his arms. He stood face to face with the hop, both scowling. But Friend snorted and shook his head, sitting down to sulk by the fire.
Demaren carried her to his bag and leaned her against the tree. She looked pained and was whimpering--some awful dream--her face red and hot from fever. He rummaged through his things. All were slightly mud caked from when he'd pulled his parka from the bag with muddied hands. So he dumped it all out in frustration.
He found some of the herbs and medicines Jain had packed him, as well as a small stack of folded cloth. He practically flew to the creek--or maybe he did fly--and quickly turned the fabrics into a cold compress. He pressed them to her forehead back by the tree and mixed up some herbs into a watery drink.
"Ashling..." He sad softly, "Wake up for a moment. Please." She barely stirred again and he carefully poured the drink down her throat. She coughed a bit, waking up a little more, and raising her right hand she helped him hold it for her to finish. But before he had set the cup down, she was asleep again, her hand resting on his arm. Then he saw the infection.
"Stars above, girl, are you trying to kill yourself?" He muttered, holding a hand over his eyes.
A close examination of the wound showed it to be a burn gone bad. Her hand was red and swollen, and the burn was crusting and bleeding a bit. He glanced at her pained, feverish face.
He had to boil some water to treat it, but the hot water and the liquid from Jain made for a sure-to-sting ointment, which he deeply cleaned the hand with. In consciousness, she would have screamed and even in her sleep she squirmed. But afterward, the wound was clean (though a little raw) and he smeared a fresh mix of healing cream over it. From the once neat stack of cloth, he made some bandages and wrapped the hand.
By the end of the ordeal, her fever medicine had kicked in and she was calming down into a more peaceful sleep. Friend appeared beside him and nudged Demaren's shoulder with his nose. Demaren turned to see the hop holding his parka in his mouth, or rather, between his teeth.
"Thank you." Demaren said, giving Friend a good pat on the neck. Then he swaddled Ashling in the parka, her feet dangling out only barely. Friend snorted from near the fire, laying down as he called. Demaren gathered her into his arms this time and settled beside Friend. The two of them leaned against the hop, Demaren's wings curling over them. The sun had gone down and Demaren was tired, so he slept beside her.
The next morning, he awoke first. She slept soundly beside him, her face a pleasant, soft pink. She had rolled over from her back to her side, so she was facing him. Her honey colored hair had fallen around her face, a few strands over her eyes and mouth. He absentmindedly brushed them away, and her eye lids fluttered.
Her eyes were a frothy sort of color, much like sea foam or clouds--two of his favorite things he reminded himself, stupidly-- and were looking right into his own. She opened her mouth, but he spoke first.
"One, you had a fever. Two, you had an infection. Three, I think it's best if you sleep under my wing so I can protect you. And four, yes, I will be accompanying you to safety. Now, what would you like to say?"
"You don't have to... I-I'm sorry, I didn't think it was that bad, it only stung a little and I did clean it and I only had a headache, I didn't realize I was sick, but you don't have to take care of me, I can--"
"Yes, I do. You fall into sucking mouths of mud, infect your hands, develop fevers, and somehow manage to go without food for far too long. And it's not a problem, I don't mind taking care of you." He smoothed her hair flat around her head, trying to sooth her anxieties.
"You probably have places to go--You are going somewhere, right? And there are people you are going to see, I'm sure. I-I'm only a distraction!" She said, starting to sit up, her hands trying find the end of the feathers.
He unfolded the wings and let her sit up fully, following her up. She blinked dizzily, but seemed far more steady today.
"I told you, it's fine. It's a distraction I don't mind following up on." He smiled pleasantly at her before remembering what Jeron had said. He tried to keep the smile on, but his eyes widened ever so slightly. Fortunately, she was still looking around hurriedly, and didn't notice. He coughed and helped her to her feet.
"Well, maybe we're going in the same direction... Where are you going?" She picked up the fallen parka, and Friend leaped to his feet and began to sniff her happily.
"Maybe... I'm going to Grayman. I have a map, so I can escort you where you need to go and then follow it from there."
Ashling was picking up a muddied piece of folded paper. She unfolded it, mud breaking off and pieces of paper going with it.
"You mean... this?"
Demaren tried not to run to look. But it was definitely the map--or what was once the map. It was far too damaged from his muddied hands to be of any use. "Yes, that would be the map..." He sighed and rubbed his head.
"This happened because of me. I am so so sorry!"
He held up his hand and she stopped talking. He was staring at the sky, still pink from the sunrise. A few stars twinkled. He could see his mother star and felt a glimmer of something good. Then he looked at her again, smiling this time.
"It'll be fine. There are worse things in life than a soiled map and I wouldn't change a thing that's happened to save it. Your life is more important than anything else." He realized how that must have sounded and blushed, "I mean, more important than a map."
She smiled a little sadly, but said nothing.
Friend, feeling ignored, almost knocked Ashling over in his demand for attention. She tumbled into Demaren and they both turned to glare at the hop who was prancing around, very pleased with himself.
"No, really, who is this guy?"
The camp clean up was easy, even after a mushy breakfast ("Yes, you are going to eat mushy for a couple days!" he'd argued with her "But I feel better!") and they tried to figure out where they were.
"The swamp is that way. You're from this continent, where do you need to go?"
"I'm going to Velt. You don't have to take me all the way there, just to the rain forest."
He ignored the last bit of that and looked at the sky. "Do you know where we are? Because I really don't. In fact, without the stars I'm at a loss for what is north or south."
"Well, I'm pretty sure we're in Ellipt. And if we go south, we'll find the beach. And then we can follow that up to Velt. I mean, it's not the fastest route, but it's the best route."
"Right. So. To Velt, then." He slung the bag around his shoulder and neck. Then he looked at her and then the hop. "How do you want to get there?"
"I can't leave Friend. Wouldn't you get tired carrying me?"
Demaren shook his head, "You are very light. It would be faster, but I understand. Friend is a good creature to have around, so it's fine. Just don't expect me to ride him."
"Haven't you ever ridden anything?"
He glared at her. "I am not built to ride things."
"Okay, moving on!"
And they did.