Thunder (G/T P!Septiplier)

Borders

Jack's sudden sneeze was so hard that he smacked his forehead against Mark's chest, startling the warrior. "Was that you?" Ethan gawked at him. "You all right? I thought the cold didn't get to you."

"Er... y-yes," Mark lied, "Uh, sorry." He quickly faked a second sneeze to sell the part. "Just an itchy nose!"

"Don't apologize," Ethan laughed and moved on. "Just light up a fÿre and feel better soon!" Mark rubbed the frosted whiskers above his lips and waited until the blue haired boy was out of earshot before he snuck a peek at his sick passenger.

"Gods that was loud," he whispered. Jack sniffled and rubbed his runny nose, looking miserable. Amy paused beside him and positioned her body so that no one would accidentally spot the human as they passed.

"He's fortunate the Chïlá is all he has," she murmured. Mark nodded and closed the flap.

"Traveling isn't doing much good, I reckon."

"No, it isn't." Amy sighed and checked the sun's position in the sky. "Almost three cycles of the sky now. We're almost there, he just needs to hold on for a little longer."

"Cha." Mark nodded and continued plowing through the snow. The blizzard had officially marked the beginning of winter. The white powder already piled up to his shins, and snow fell more frequently. The strange trees glittered with sparkling ice, locked in the cold timeless sleep with the grass until the air warmed up again. When night fell, the temperature dropped severely, but now Mark and Amy took the right precautions to ensure their patient's survival: They checked for any gaps that wind might steal through, no matter how small, and they kept him near either a fire or Mark himself to keep warm. Tea helped, not just to keep warm but to also heal. His wounds were on their way to healing, but it would be a long time before his leg would fully heal.

 Not that Jack had anywhere he could flee to.

"Täjwéh!" Tyler's call rang in the chill air. The tribe stopped and waited, while the children were puzzled and asking their mamas what was going on. Mark trudged to the front to accompany the chieftain and officers.

"What is it?" He asked. Tyler was scanning the landscape ahead of them.

"We're at the edge of their territory," he intoned, "We wait." And so they waited. It was a clear afternoon with little wind, so it was a nice day to breathe all the crisp fresh air. Mark told Tyler he would scout and moved away from the others so he could check on Jack again. As soon as he found an isolated little hill that overlooked the forest line, he sat down and opened the shoulder pouch.

"Hey líten häna," he murmured comfortingly to Jack, "How you feeling? I bet you need some fresh air. It's not easy being cooped up in there, huh?" Jack mumbled a drowsy protest when he was blasted with cold air, and he tried to hide under his blankets as he coughed miserably. Mark chuckled softly and ruffled the top of his head that poked out between the animal furs. "It's alright. No one else is here. They won't notice you." He carefully reached in and cupped his hand underneath, scooping up the grumpy Irishman and setting him down on his thigh. Jack groaned hoarsely and tugged on his blanket again, not in the mood for anything other than sleep right now. Mark laughed, greatly amused. "Okay, fine, just get a little bit of air in you, cha? At least look around. It's beautiful here." Mark smiled at their gorgeous surroundings. "The issen sparkles... the trees sleep... And though it may be cold, it's a beautiful thing, this place." Jack did look. He did remember snow, and he loved its aesthetic just as much as the last time he had seen it all those years ago. But he appreciated the heat emanating from Mark's thigh more.

"I loved issen when I was younger," Mark murmured, "All the crystals and the beauty of frozen time, and leaving footprints in the white powder." Mark chuckled. "Before we grew up, we'd always play hunting games with one another. Leaving tracks in the snow was always great fun, especially if you managed to devise a fake trail." Jack peeked out from under his covers as Mark sighed. "My dad would help me practice before he fell ill..." He smiled sadly, eyes glazing over as he became distant. "He was the chieftain, but when he died his deputy had to take over. And that was Tyler's dad." Mark looked down at Jack. "I don't mind not being chief." He rubbed the Irishman's little head, mindlessly stroking his soft little waves of hair. "Tyler's great, and I'm honored to follow him. I doubt I'd have made a good leader anyway, but..." Jack glanced up at the giant as he grew lost in thought. "I just wish I could have had more time with him," Mark murmured. The Irishman blinked a couple of times. Susie suddenly beeped in his ear and intoned that the translator was at thirty-seven percent completion, but he barely heard it. The news he'd gathered from the few precious words accurately translated really hit home.