Baird could feel the heat rising against his skin. His hazy thoughts convinced him it was because he was wounded and had hit his head. Or at least that was the truth he was going to stick with. Stumbling words and tied tongues were easy to blame on head wounds. Each movement Moonfeather made he attempted to accommodate, grudgingly giving into the training of accepting the help of a healer. The number of times Niviaq fussed about warriors being too hardheaded to gracefully take care was for too great a number in his mind for him to ignore. Still, his constant shifting to accommodate might have also disrupted and disturbed the process. As such, when she did lay next to him he had positioned himself where their noses had indeed touched.

She seemed to recover far quicker than he did. Instead, he just stared forward and kept his body still while she worked, this time not trying to be overly helpful. Young and inexperienced with the finesse of life he felt like he was a pup again, trying to figure out how to use his paws while chasing his tail. Choosing not to take actions to make this situation worse, he simply stayed quiet until she gave voice to a concern he had not even considered. Orange eyes shot open and he almost jumped out of his skin. Sleekwing was a kind master, good natured and friendly. This did not mean he would take kindly to anyone getting too close to his daughter in any way or form. The old Castilian had watched over and protected the boundary of Spirane for most of his life. Baird was sure the same protective nature would extend to his family. Older, wiser, Sleekwing would still be able to pound Baird into the ground if he so fancied. The heat under Baird’s skin turned to cold with a flush. Suddenly he was far too keenly aware of how close they were and how this could have been misinterpreted. Even after all his attempts to remain professional and dignified.

He closed one eye against her tongue while she worked on his face. Funny may not be the word I would be looking for. He sighed. If he were anything less than a perfect gentleman he would have both teachers breathing down his neck. Luckily, for the most part, he was a gentleman. Especially when his senses and mind was dulled by a throb from the bump on his head.

His body shifted a little, getting more comfortable without disturbing the ice on his leg. His nose dipped to his chest as he attempted to stave off the impending drowsiness. Thick, puffy, coudy… He started to lean to the side, into her. A little too late he noticed the shift and flailed slightly to right himself. Sorry! I didn’t mean to… He was struggling to stay conscious now that he was comfortable and warming. The shivering had stopped to be replaced by an extreme desire to sleep. He did not know if he succumbed to the need or not, everything was just becoming so muddled… and Moonfeather’s shoulder was just so warm...