NOAH DRIFTED IN DARKNESS, blind and deaf to anything but constant, gnawing ache in his stomach. Sometimes, something thick and sweet would slide down his throat and the hunger pangs would fade, but it was never for long. That terrible hunger always surged back, like fire.
Occasionally, there were odd snatches of awareness: the sensation of cool hands touching his face, the faint murmurs of a male voice. In some place at the back of his fevered brain, he was aware but he knew that voice, he hated hearing that voice. But then the hunger roared back, and everything was lost.
The cracking of a door creaking open, and the footsteps told him, he was back. "You look terrible." He said, but Noah never opened his eyes, it just hurt too much and it took out the energy right out of him.
