Garal stared at the plans for Shari's dwelling, his brow furrowing in consternation. Something wasn't quite right there, but he'd be hanged if he could figure out what it was. Perhaps a walk out there for a look might jog his thoughts.

His old bones protested mightily as he heaved himself out of his deep blue velvet overstuffed chair, and gathered the sheaf of plans and stuffed them in the architect's case. "Garal, old boy, you're getting too damned old for this." The weight of fifty-odd years in this world bore down on him like lead weights as he opened the door to his study, and stepped out into the weather.

It had been threatening to rain a good part of the day, but hadn't yet gotten around to making good on it. If he was lucky, he'd make it to Shari's temporary shelter before that happened.

***

Today was not his day. He'd not gotten a mile before the weather had decided to do it's worst. He had pressed on, thinking he could get there quickly.

"Wrong again, Professor," he muttered to himself. He was soaked to the bone, muddy from the climb up the hill to the shelter. His joints creaked and ached as he approached the door, and knocked on it carefully. At least the case with the precious plans was watertight, so those wouldn't be ruined...

The old cat removed his glasses, and sneezed hard. "I'm having some thoughts about your treehouse, Shari," he replied, doffing his sodden shirt.

The old man's ribs showed clearly through sallow skin, giving the impression of one not well accustomed to regular meals. Of particular note were a handful on his left side, that clearly showed mt signs of having been broken at some point in the past, and left untreated.

The inside of his shirt was thickly padded, and soaked completely through. He dropped it in a nearby box, where it landed with a heavy, wet thump. He groaned, and sat heavily in a nearby chair, his face beading up with sweat with the effort.

His glasses hit the floor a moment later. He paled, as if that were possible, and sat there, breathing heavily. "I saw something in... The plans... Can't decide." He wheezed heavily.

He groaned loudly, and worked to get his head up. "Been... working."

His features grew slack, and his breathing shallowed. "Plans... wrong." He made no move to take the robe from her, his hands resting limply on his chest.

The old man closed his eyes, and inhaled sharply as the first of the healing energies hit him.

Five decades of toil and abuse, missed meals and lost sleep echoed back along the connection. Heartbreak, sickness, and injury roiled within him. Had he ever really been well? He couldn't remember. There way a time, long ago, where the thought of happiness had surfaced.

But try as he might, he could summon neither name nor face. Only the faintest echoes of voice remained, and nothing clear even from that.

Why had he come here? What had been his goal? He couldn't remember for all the pain, remembered now in full force. He saw the light, and wondered what might be beyond that portal.

Trouble.

The Old Man knew somwthing was seriously wrong from the moment he turned back from the Light. It was fever that had him now, not all of his ancient injuries.

He could sense her nearby, watching, waiting. The scent of her skin, the nearness of her presence were immedaitely known to him as he struggled for consciousness. More the fool he, that had gone out when the weather had been so threatening.

But it had had to be done.

His fevered mind wondered why, as he slowly, painfully, opened his eyes, and groaned heavily. He saw her sitting, keeping vigil while the fever raged, and thought in that moment that he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Of course, Old Cat, he berated himself. You'd think that, in your state. Remember what happened the last time? Better, what gives you the idea that someone as young and vibrant as she is would have anything to do with a broken-down, abused old heap of bones? Hmmm?

He closed his eyes, and swallowed heavily, and busied his mind trying to breathe deeply, for which he was rewarded with a vicious coughing fit...