?I?m hot,? Amthy whimpered pitifully as she tossed in the narrow bed. Fitfully, she kicked at the covers, pushing them down toward the foot of the mattress. Sprawled over the full-sized bed, one leg and arm dangled off the side while her other arm was thrown across her eyes. ? And I?m dying,? she announced with a groan.

?You aren?t either,? Cayt huffed from the chair beside the bed. She didn?t even raise her eyes from her contemplation of the picture book in her hands. It was something about a cute and cuddly bunny and duckling. The watercolor illustrations were making her, strangely enough, hungry. What was probably the cause was that she had spent far too much time in her sister?s presence, and missed out on the evening hunt.

?I think I have a fever.?

Reluctantly, and with a sigh, Cayt drug her eyes off of the book. Of course the Nymph had a fever! Cayt was well aware that Amthy had been the proud owner of one for the last two evenings. Painfully aware, some might say. Closing the book?she had been trying to tell Amthy a bed time story for the last two hours?the silvery blonde shifter leaned out of her chair to touch her hand to her patient?s brow. ?Yup, you have a fever,? Cayt replied. Well, at least the Nymph wasn?t delirious anymore. As far as she could tell, Amthy had what appeared to be heat stroke, or heat exhaustion. How the Nymph managed it in the middle of winter, she had no clue.

?Your hand is making me cold,? Amthy snuffed as her jaw began to tremble and her teeth chattered. Amthy was a mess. Her complexion was drawn and flushed, and her pale olive green hair was a matted mess of knots.

?Would you like some tea?? Caytlin asked as she stood. Placing her book on seat, she walked to the end of the bed and picked all the covers off of the floor. With a flick of her wrists, she spread one of the blankets back over her sister.

?I think ?m gonna be sick,? she grumbled as she curled up into a tight, pitiful ball. The brief gust of cool wind from the blanket gave her goosebumps. Hunching down, she pulled the blue blanket with the satin trim up over her head. ?Tickle my feet.?

Cayt?s nose twitched as both amusement and frustration filtered through her. Who knew her sister could be such a pain? ?Are you really going to be sick, or are you just saying that?? She asked. It wasn?t the first time Amthy had called wolf! Sitting on the foot of the bed, she tossed back the end of the blanket and went looking for Amthy?s feet. Finding one, she held the ankle with one hand and attacked the other.

?Aiiiie!? Amthy squawked as she flailed about on the bed. Kicking her leg, she tried to free her foot from the torture Cayt was inflicting. ?Tha?s not wha? I meant!? She squealed in a high pitched shriek.

?What did you mean?? Caytlin asked with a mischievous tip to her mouth. She had known perfectly well what Amthy had meant! It was just more fun pretending she didn?t understand. She didn?t press the tickling?the last thing she wanted was Amthy to be ill all over the bed.

Gasping for a breath, Amthy shot her sister a squinty eyed look with her fever glossed eyes. Her chapped lips pinched and her cheeks ballooned. ?Touch the bottoms lightly, and draw stuff with your fingers.?

?Oh, I see,? Cayt said with feigned understanding. Affection drifted over her features as she did as requested. Frustrated as she might be, she loved her sister dearly and it pained her to see Amthy unwell. It was a rare occurrence. She could count on one hand how many times the nymphy-pix had been sick. ?Did you want me to finish the story??

?Yes,? Amthy said into her pillow.

?Well, okay, then you?ll have to be quiet.?

?Okay,? Amthy replied, ?but it better have some really hott guys and princesses in it,? Amthy warned.

?Oh, I promise, it does.?