Make camp in the hollow

The darkness, the oncoming storm, and your fatigue combine to conspire against pushing deeper into the woods. This hollow may only be the first serviceable location to stop and rest, but it'll have to make do. When you dismount Aegis and your belly lurches, you're confident that you've made the correct decision.

You need to scavenge whatever firewood you can find before the rain begins to fall in earnest, so you track back along the path you took down the hill. Your mount's training is exceptional; he barely tilts his head to watch you leave, but otherwise remains motionless. The walk back up the trail isn't difficult, but you're fighting against several factors, not least of which is the cold, nor your bare feet. You know that walking briskly will help against the cold, and a stout fire will help even more, so your training helps to steel your resolve. There's nothing to be done about your bare feet, but the knowledge that you'll be able to get off of them soon and get some rest is encouraging.

The nausea is a different story. You were rarely sick in your time at the abbey. The blessings of the Burning Rose kept you supernaturally healthy. It hasn't been since your childhood that you remember feeling any sort of discomfort similar to this. Is it because of the severed connection to your goddess? Could you have caught ill so quickly after her protection left you? You pray that the daemon did not infect you with more than lust when he stole your innocence.

You gather up a collection of sticks of various sizes and return to your campsite. The task takes longer than it should, as you need to steady yourself when the queasiness is too much to bear, lest you drop your collection of kindling. Whether providence or happy coincidence, you're not set upon by any hostile creatures before returning to the hollow. And none too soon, for a light mist has begun to filter through the trees.

It's damp, you're feeling cold, and miserable, and hungry, and all of these problems are getting worse by the minute. There's nothing for it but to soldier on. You build your fire, using the tinder box in Aegis' saddlebags. There's some dried fruit as well, probably intended for your steed, but you steal a few morsels for yourself.

And then you tend your fire, nursing the little flame until you have something, small, but reasonable. The light and warmth is caught in the walls of the hill and even your horse, who seems largely unconcerned by the elements, offers a bit of additional shelter. Finally, finally, you're able to relax. You didn't even realize you were shivering until you feel the life coming back into your extremities.

You know you need to check your condition, but sitting back against the side of the cliff, the warmth of the fire and ache in your stomach argue for sleep. The argument is compelling, and you pass out, utterly exhausted.