Faolan watched the boy's face carefully as he looked at him from out of the bundle he had made for himself. Searching his face, the Irishman immediately noticed that his cheeks were flushed, far redder than would be normal for this temperature. He heard a shake in the boy's voice through his short response, and saw how white his knuckles were as his small hand peeked out to grip the edge of the blanket. 

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger at the boy, but in anger at his suspicions. He had smelled alcohol in the room that they'd found this "snake" in, and noted his wobbly demeanor and half-lidded eyes. He'd been drunk when they found him, and Lucien had presumably taken care of that with his ability. It was possible that if this was truly "normal" as the child indicated, that he was experiencing withdrawal. Faolan had seen it enough in his childhood, and the smell of sweat that wafted out from under the child's blankets only confirmed this fear. The Irishman's father had been an incurable drunkard, the result of a pour of whiskey into every cup of coffee he had ever seen the man drink. "To warm the bones," the man always said. He'd offered the amber liquid to Faolan as a boy, before he was ten years old, and though he had been curious, Faolan had only pretended to sip it after a harsh look from his mother. If his father went any length of time without drinking, if they'd run out and not had a chance to go to town for the grocer, he'd begin to shake and sweat. His stomach would heave, he would be mean and angry and lash out. He'd vomit and curse, and strike Faolan and even his sister and mother on occasion. Drink made him bearable at least, and as a young boy Faolan had found it more preferable for his father to be with alcohol rather than without. This became such a fear of his, that Faolan would often sneak a bottle away and return it only when his father was close to running out, just to be sure he would not turn into the monster he could be. It usually worked, and that was his life before the attack.

This would not be the case with this boy. Though Faolan was still uneasy about touching the child, not to mention the snakes that coiled about him, he reached a hand up slowly. [color=a36209]"Is it okay if I feel your forehead?"[/color] he asked gently and quietly, letting his hand hover before making contact with the boy's forehead. Depending on how hot the child's skin was, he could tell how far the withdrawal had progressed, and if it was withdrawal at all or something more sinister.

The boy looked slightly uneasy, but nodded anyway. Faolan's eyes flashed to the snake near the boy's throat, but it made no move at him as he slowly made contact with the boy's forehead. It was burning hot, even hotter than Faolan's already warm skin. This confirmed his worse fear, and his face hardened. If he ever saw that man, Johan, again...

[color=a36209]"What are your other symptoms?"[/color] he said, still keeping his voice low but no longer whispering. He would need Lucien now, to clear the boy's illness, at least this time, and Lucien would never forgive him if he suspected Faolan of trying to keep this from him.