Waiting, she supposed, was what her task could have been considered. She had been patiently overseeing their Queen and Spider, waiting for the day that she and Swallowbane might be called upon to tend to them. Swallowbane would surely be ready, she had no doubts, and yet she knew she had to be ready for anything. There was always the inherent risks, always the chance that something might not go right for the mother or the healer tending to them. They just had to hope that things would go well; as a safety blanket, however, she had taken to replenishing the stocks of herbs and the likes in preparation. She had begun filling Swallowbane's den, too, with her own little storages, a gift of sorts for his dedication to the role. Unfortunately, she had not been able to find Orca but she was sure the girl would be just as prepared. Surely, everything would go smoothly.

Imagine then her surprise when a panic stricken howl echoed across the mountainside, a sound so startling that it caused Niviaq to pause mid-stride as she ambled up the slopes. Even with the cries of the spring birds and the rushing of the wind, she could hear the desperation in the howl and the all-too-familiar tone that indicated Natu had been the one calling. Had something happened? Had the children come? As prepared as Niviaq might have been, her stomach still dropped as she suddenly found herself sprinting over the slopes towards where the cry had been issued. There would always be that moment of worry, the moment of not knowing what one was about to face off against. This time, it might have been for a good reason.

It was strange, however, that Natu had not called her from the den. Of course, these things happened: Niviaq had, after all, taken Jaylah's children from the shores of Litherum where they had been born. Though, it did not seem right and her concern was justified when she found Natu - no, the pair - of them. Beneath Natu was the black and white form of Sven, one of Spirane's youngest members. Though he had never come across as overtly energetic, the way he lay and scrambled was not normal and neither was the foul scent that drifted around him. It was the epitome of sickness, the scent of the body rejecting itself in a sense. Even Niviaq did her best to avoid looking down at whatever mess he might have made. Instead, she paused for several moments to compose herself before approaching, doing her best to keep her face as placid as possible. A worried mother was just as sick as an ill child, and she would have to do her best to keep Natu calm.

"Natu, how long have you been with him? How long has he been like this?"

She inquired quickly before swooping in on Sven, approaching him from up wind so as to avoid the scent of it all. Gently, she nudged him to alert him of her presence though it seemed he was... perhaps too ill to truly fight back. She could never be completely certain though, and when she touched him, she instantly felt the heat from his body. She frowned in thought as she pulled away from him, biting down on her teeth in contemplation. A fever and vomiting. These things were relatively common, but seldom to this extent. At this point, the fever could wait. It was the vomiting that would be the fastest thing to cause irreversible damage to the boy. How long had it been since he had water?

"Sven, can you speak? I need to know... did you eat something bad?"

Perhaps he merely needed to get that bad out of him? But what if this had been going on behind their backs for days? Whatever he had eaten would have to have been vomited up by now... surely. So, then what? One step at a time. She breathed in, once more trying to calm her thoughts as she ran a mental check on her supplies. Clove? Perhaps. But first, she needed to be sure she would not be doing more harm than good.