playful antics and sudden frantics

He was completely focused on the churning of his stomach and the churning of his head alike, even tb churning of the oceans tide at his back. Everything was turbulent, his thoughts racing and unwelcome, his throat and belly in knots, his ears pinned against his head with the ringing. Was it the poison, or all in his head? How could he trust himself to know?

Until, Arsa pressed up against his side once more. His soft figure, though larger, melded with the curves of Revan's body, offering him relief, comfort; helping more than he could truly imagine. Revan gazed down as the man pressed his head to his shoulder just as he had done moments before, and his red eyes widened slightly as his brow pulled up.

Something like a spear shot through his chest, twisting and clawing at his heart, causing him to grimace. He was hurting Arsa. He could see the distress, the worry on his smooth face. It panged him, every cell of his body both good and bad hated to see it, and it made Revan hate himself even more. But… At the same time, it helped. He planted his paws in a sturdy stance, shifting his weight to press against Arsa even more. Revan was such an odd mixture of both selfish and selfless. He had his moments, where he would forget about anyone but himself, but seeing his best friend like this urged him to be strong. Arsa likely wouldn't know it, but by doing so, it helped Revan to push aside his ailments with all the strength he could summon. Shutting off his rambling mind with nothing short of pure determination, and inhaled a steadier breath. He could never bring himself to be positive - but, for Arsa, he would fight. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could take him out without one final battle. It welled inside of him with renewed strength.

Before speaking, before moving, Revan arched his head to the side, leaning into his companion. He pressed his nose to the pale fur of his temple, still letting him lean against his shoulder. Only after a moment did his tongue slide out, leaving a singular, soft kiss to his forehead.

It meant… everything, really. It meant he cared, it meant he was sorry, so sorry, and if this did take a turn for the worse, it meant he would miss him greatly. But most of all, it meant thank you. Faced with his possible demise, Revan stopped to think about just how much Arsa meant to him. It was a lot, perhaps more than he expected. He had always provided him comfort and solace, helped him eat regularly, and helped him get out of pesky conversations with other wolves… maybe there was even a night or two where he had helped him stay warm with his bountiful fur. More than anything, Arsa had saved him. Saved him from a life of wandering alone, and rotting away in his own mind. As the man pulled away, Revan kept his red eyes on those of ocre, bold after such affection. He couldn't imagine a life without those eyes and that face, not anymore, and he truly didn't want to imagine one. His eyes held a look of adoration for the man, a silent thank you.

“We can find a little nook outside of the territory to stay in,” Revan drew his sight away, glancing up the hill across the beach. It seemed Arsa had read his mind about the territory, so he couldn't disagree. Though he wondered how long Arsa would make him rest; he didn't like having to stay in one place for too long. Moving was everything to him. “I can gather food and supplies later. I just want you to rest when we get there, okay?” And he especially didn't like being babied… But what could he do? Even if he did fight it, there was a good chance he could die, after all. As a reminder, a sore shot through his stomach, pulling the corners of his lips to a troubled frown.

"Hmph," He huffed, forced to agree. He didn't want to speak too much, with the feeling of his stomach creeping up his throat. "Come on." One last sorrowful glance to his companion, before he set off, walking stiffly through the sand. Yeah, he was definitely going to vomit along the way…

"This is Revan speaking. This is Revan thinking which is dangerous.