Rean had been spending time between her triplets and Mattan doing her best to take care of them but not doing all that well. She was beginning to feel the strain, between Threadfall her children and the scorn of some of her more traditional riders. She felt as though she were not going to be able to lead the weyr for much longer given Takhisith. Leira might stoop so low as to pay to General Lovewell and Staren Guard to take her out if she felt she could gain from Rean's death.
"Mommy." Mattan said his voice soft and gentle as he looked at his mother, Rean smiled and looked at her son. He was sweating...More than he should be, "Are you all right?" She asked as she picked up her three turn old son and smiled at him. Kissing his forehead lightly to check his temperature, Mattan squirmed a little then stopped as he looked at his mother. "Your sick." She muttered to him, Mattan looked at him with all the trust of a child. "Where we going mommy?" He asked his trust in her absolute he knew she'd take care of him.
Rean smiled at Mattan, "Let us go to the Infirmary maybe they can help you." She said to her son her voice soft and gentle as she walked to the Infirmary. "I can walk." Mattan said stubbornly as he looked at her. "I can get us there faster Mattan." She said to him as she got to the Infirmary she walked in and looked around at the place. It was as it had been organized chaos.
"My son is ill. He has a slight fever." She called to the Healers knowing one or more would respond as soon as they had a moment. She looked at Mattan and hoped that he would get better but with how little he was there was a chance he may not make it. Don't think of that My Rider. Miroth said to the woman as she was curled up by their hut waiting for Rean to return.