"You can't leave me here." Zevran punctuated his protest with a sneezing fit that made Dal's mabari twitch and growl.
Dal lifted his chin, signalling Wynne to come to take charge of Zev before he tried anything foolish.
"I give you my word that I will watch over him for you," Leliana said, adjusting her sword and dagger before joining Alistair and Shale where they waited to leave the camp. "You two are too cute to let anything ruin it now."
"The elf must stay in camp," Shale said, adding her two coppers. "It is particularly gooey today. Just when I think squishy things cannot produce more fluids, I am proven wrong."
Even with streaming eyes, a bright red nose, and skin that alternately flushed with fever or turned mottled and clammy with chills, Zevran raised an eyebrow at that. "We have yet to discuss all fluids, my friend."
Leliana giggled.
Alistair coughed, holding his hands up to fend off Dal's glare. "Sorry. Just swallowed something wrong."
Before Zevran could respond and up the ante, Dal cut in. "Sick day. Now. My tent."
Wynne put an arm around Zev's shoulder. "Come along, I'll put you to bed."
Dal smiled when Zev let her turn him toward the tent. The last they heard from the elf as they left the camp was, "My darling Wynne, how long I have waited for this day."