The word this week is Dip and one of the boys is badly injured.
I move quickly, resting my knee down on the bed beside him as he thrashes deliriously, moaning pitifully against the relentless burn of his fever.
He is shaking so badly now that's it's hard to hold him in place. The mattress dips under my weight, canting him toward me and it's all I can do to stop us both tumbling to the floor.
His blushed skin is searingly hot and the dressing, though only an hour old, is corrupt with the poison it's claws have torn into his flesh.
I am loosing the battle.
I close my eyes and pray.
You asked for the derivation of our pen-names...I stole my cat's name. He's called Birdie and he's my baby as many of us would wish to be Dean's!