"I am not!" Zephyr squawked, and the blankets shook indignantly as though he was flapping his wings with anger.
Nonetheless, Nereus wasn't deaf to the way Zephyr's voice sounded weaker than usual.
"In that case, pull down the blanket and let me take a look at you," Sirona ordered. She needed to examine him herself to ensure that he wasn't simply keeping his new murderous urges at bay.
"Just leave me alone!" Zephyr yelled, but then his voice broke off in a loud cough. He cleared his throat, and it sounded particularly wet. "I'm fine!"
Sirona and Nereus glanced at each other. To their knowledge, Zephyr had never been ill. A benefit of being a magical beast meant increased immunity to most diseases that would have killed humans or other animals. Add the fact that Zephyr spent his days eating the best food the palace could offer and sleeping on soft comfy beds, it was utterly implausible for him to have fallen ill.
