i'd burn here if that's what it takes [magnus/any ill]

[Rhaegor]

Rhaegor

the playboy

He feels worse these days - sex with the girl who he chose over the daughter of the healer he would accidentally bump into today seemed to have a more harmful effect than an ecstatic one. He shouldn't be surprised at that, shouldn't resent the blood-bubbling cough which has slowly laid claim to his lungs, shouldn't be surprised when so many feathers fall off his wings that he doubts he will ever fly again. The young stallion considers them often enough, sometimes daring to groom them - but the attempts only ever resulted in more feathers falling, and the sight of the dead gray fronds was simply not something he could stomach.

Emaciated but with no appetite, Rhaegor meanders along the western coastline as the winter sun kindly warms his back. This he appreciates most about his new volcanic home, the warmth; back in the Cove, he would be lucky to feel properly temperatured during midsummer. Musing over these meaningless ideas as he walks, the prince fails to notice the two golden creatures standing just atop the sandy beach. By the time he does, the number of golden creatures within that vicinity is magically three.

He blinks once, and clears his throat - then remembers that he can't speak anyway. The fever must be worse than I thought. Licking his lips, the buckskin stallion exhales loudly, the sound creaking like splintering wood. He wants to lend the pair before him an apologetic glance, but even this small gesture falls beyond his current capabilities. Blinking, though far too slowly for anyone's comfort level, he thinks again, not realizing that the thoughts are projected directly to his King's mind.

I would like to lie down. In the water, where it's cold.

...my name on your tongue and your tongue on my...

plz help this sick ragamuffin