The next day, Crow awoke to find that he had overslept again. He sat up on his bedroll and looked around dazedly, trying to orient himself in his lingering weariness. The camp was already awash with bright daylight from the sun overhead, and Simon was sitting against a nearby tree, squinting at a book in his lap. Crow wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it definitely wasn’t morning anymore. He shuddered. He was sure of it now. His illness was causing him to sleep much more than he used to. He just hoped it wouldn’t make an unwelcomed appearance during their raid that night.

“There’s porridge in the pot,” Simon said without looking up from his book, having noticed that his leader was awake now. “It’s probably cold by now, but help yourself.”

“Thanks,” Crow nodded sleepily. He got up and made his way over to the pot that was sitting next to the now-extinguished fire, filling up a bowl for himself before he moved to sit in a thick patch of grass. As he lifted the first spoonful to his mouth, he noticed immediately that Simon was right. The food wasn’t even slightly warm anymore. However, he was too hungry to care, so he ate it all regardless.

As he finished off the rest of the porridge, he noticed Simon was eyeing him from where he sat beneath the tree. “What?” he asked, feeling a bit defensive underneath his companion’s scrutinizing stare.

“Why [i]are[/i] you sleeping in so late?” Simon asked with a frown. “You’ve never struck me as the lazy type, so I don’t understand it.”

“I told you, I’m just tired,” Crow lied. “I had a lot to recover from, so I probably still just need some extra rest.”

“Maybe,” Simon shrugged. “But you’ve had worse and recovered just fine. I just think it’s a little peculiar is all.”

“Who knows?” Crow averted his gaze to look out over the Younisian camp that was now bustling with activity.

Fortunately, Simon seemed to pick up on the fact that Crow didn’t want to keep talking about the subject, so he let it drop, and the two thieves lapsed into silence.

The rest of the day was spent in preparation for the upcoming raid. Crow and Simon observed the knights from their vantage point, pinpointing the positions of their guards, finding blind spots, marking out safe paths of escape, and fine tuning the rest of their plans. Between the two of them, they had a solid grasp of the routines and routes of the nobles they were spying on. So, by the time night fell, they were more than ready to make their move to steal the Younisians’ supplies.

The thieves made their way down the side of the ridge, taking advantage of the cover of darkness as they made their way towards the camp. When they reached it, they slipped between the tents, relying on their memories of where the guards were posted to avoid running into anyone. Easily bypassing the Younisian security, they crept towards the large tent that they had seen some knights walking in and out of for various supplies. As expected, it was thinly guarded. There was just one knight standing outside the entrance, his eyes glazed tiredly and his attention clearly elsewhere.

Stopping by a nearby tent, Crow and Simon exchanged a look. Crow gave him a nod, and the blonde thief circled around to approach the supply tent from behind. Crouching in the cover of his hiding place, Crow watched as his companion snuck up behind the knight and struck him in the head with the butt of his short sword. The unconscious man crumpled to the ground, and the thief darted out from his hiding spot, slipping soundlessly into the supply tent with Simon following close behind.

Once they were both inside, they worked quickly to bundle up as many weapons as they could carry. Between the two of them, they managed to fill four burlap sacks with a variety of blades, bows, and blunt objects. They slung the bags over their shoulders and hurried back out of the tent, following the same route back that they had taken to get there without being seen.

After they had put enough distance between themselves and the knights’ camp to speak freely, Crow turned to Simon with a grin, “That was easy.”

“It always is,” the blonde thief nodded.

Suddenly, they both flinched as the sound of shouting rose from the camp behind them. Glancing at each other with wide eyes, Crow and Simon took off running towards the ridge. The theft had been easy, but the knights had discovered their intrusion much faster than they had expected, so they needed to get away before someone noticed them out in the open.

Crow followed Simon’s lead as they sprinted across the open plain. They managed to get all the way back to the bottom of the ridge before the thief felt a familiar wave of dizziness that made him stagger. He cursed under his breath, narrowing his eyes as he forced himself to focus on climbing up the side of the overhang with his companion. He glanced back over his shoulder at the ground far below and felt his heart beat a little quicker in his chest. He couldn’t let himself pass out now or the fall would be bad.

Enduring the fatigue purely out of a will to survive, he managed to make it to the top before he collapsed, panting heavily from the exertion of running and climbing.

Simon had walked a bit farther ahead to drop off his stolen weapons near the center of the camp. Once he was free from their weight, he rolled his shoulders and turned back to Crow, only to pause in his tracks when he caught sight of him on the ground. The thief hurried to his leader’s side with a concerned expression, “What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Crow shook his head, forcing himself to sit up. “Just tripped on the way back up.”

Simon stared at him for a moment longer before he relaxed, “Good. For a moment, I thought you had reopened one of your wounds.”

“No,” he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, trying to stop the world from spinning around him. “Just give me a moment to get my breath back.”

“Alright,” Simon nodded. “I’ll get the fire started.” He rose to his feet and walked away to do as he said, leaving Crow behind to recover.

The thief didn’t move for a few minutes as he waited for the dizzy spell to pass. He couldn’t believe how close he had come to blacking out again—and in front of Simon, no less. He had gotten lucky that his companion believed his lie about tripping. He grimaced. If all it took for him to feel this terrible was a short run, it was going to be difficult to keep hiding the illness from the others. He just hoped Hazel would come up with something that would cure him soon.

Still exhausted from the escape, he climbed shakily to his feet and hauled the weapons he had carried over to the pile Simon had started. “I’m going to bed now,” he murmured to the other thief. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay,” Simon knitted his brow, seeming confused by Crow’s sudden urge to sleep. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Crow nodded wearily and stepped over to his bedroll. He laid down heavily and closed his eyes, drifting off almost immediately as he finally succumbed to the impulse to pass out.