//------------------------------//
// 42 No disco fever here. Just the regular kind. 
// Story: Moonie shorts [Filly Nightmare Moon] 
// by Eighth 
//------------------------------//

	You get up and begin the morning routine. Still groggy, you walk down the hall to the kitchen when a little filly pokes her head out from her room. She doesn't speak, she just looks up at you with suitcases hanging from her eyes and a distant gaze.
"Hey, are you feeling alright?"
"No. I think I'm dying."
"Always the drama queen," you reply with a chuckle as you kneel down and use the back of your hand to get the gist of her temperature.
From the feel of things, she's burning up. Going by appearances alone, it's clear she's coming down with something but you're not sure what. It seems like a fever but considering she's a different species to you, you can't help but doubt that thought.
"I think I'll just step out for a bit to go get a doctor, get back into bed and I'll be back as soon as possible."
"Anon, it's just a fever or a cold or something."
"I'm sure it is. Either way, I need to let Mayor Mare I can't come into work."
"You're worrying over nothing. I'm fine," she replies, continuing her poor attempt at being convincing.
"Bed."

With a grunt she does as you tell her so you make a b-line for the doctor's, stopping at the town hall along the way. Mayor Mare understands your predicament, she asks you to do a few things at home but repeats there's no pressure for them. And because it's still early morning, the doctor has enough free time to come back to your house with you to check up on Moonie. 

"Seems to be just a fever. I can give you some medicine to make her more comfortable but all she needs is some rest and to keep the temperature down."
"Thanks Doc."
With a nod, he takes off leaving you standing there feeling silly grabbing a doctor over a fever.
"Should have just went the gut feeling instead of worrying," you mutter to yourself as you head into Moonie room.
"Told you."
"That you did. Now, I have the day off so we can just relax and do whatever."
"Discworld!"
"Again? I told you some last night."
"Yes, the sick mare should get whatever she wants," she demands with a stomping of her hooves.
"Alright, calm down."
You tell her a few stories that are half how you remember and the rest is made up. Halfway through a tale you stop as Moonie has been fidgeting constantly through the story, kicking at her blanket and rolling around to smear her sweat all over the sheets.
"Here, let me check your temperature."
You grab the little thermometer the doctor left with you and grin at the now concerned filly.
"Roll over," you tell her, trying to fight back a laugh.
"No... Not one of those," Moonie protests.
She gets up and is about to leap off the bed but you grab hold to lay her back down.
"Relax. I'm only kidding, say ah."
You count for a moment then check the temperature. It seems a little high so you head into the kitchen to dampen a cloth which you place across Moonie forehead. The ill filly lets out a pleased sigh.
"That feels nice."
"I'm glad. I think you should take it easy for now," you reply.
As you avoid eye contact, you prop Sir Bearington up beside Moonie for her then stand to leave the room.
"I've done nothing but take it easy."
"I know. I've got to get a few things to do for work real quick then I'll be back to keep you entertained."
"Okay," she sighs.





The work you had, took a bit of time to get done. Nothing too bad but an hour and a bit has passed. There's still more but you need to check on the pony whose feeling a little blue. You tap gently on the door then squeeze your head in.
"How are you feeling?"
Moonie looks up at you who has spread all her toys all over her room.
"Great," she replies sarcastically.
Grabbing the thermometer, you check her temperature again to see it has risen only slightly.
"Hm, you know what, a bath might do you some good."
"I don't wanna," Moonie stammers in protest.
You head off and fill the bath up. When you return Moonie is nowhere to be seen.
"We're not playing this game today."
This time, Moonie has done a good job of hiding. Perhaps the lack of energy with being sick has motivated her on finding a good place to hide the first time. She's not in any of the usual places. In fact, after a bit of time and searching you notice she isn't in her room at all. She must have ducked out at some point. 

With an irate groan, you leave the room to find her laying out in the hall.
"Didn't get far," you chuckle.
She just grunts. Lifting the tired and defeated brat up, you carry her to the bathroom. Because you spent so long looking for the little terror, the bath has overflowed only slightly. You shut off the water then when you're about to place her in the water, she uses whatever energy she's stored to squirm and struggle for freedom. Thanks to the little pool of water, you lose your footing and take a tumble into the water yourself. Along the way, you smack your head and land wrong on your arm. Neither did anything serious, but it does hurt.
"Woah, that even have an echo! Are you alright?" bellows the overly proud Moonie.
You grab her and drop her into the water.
"I'm fine."
"You're a butt."
"Says the one whose out to give me a concussion," you reply as you splash her with water.
Moonie just takes the wave and sits there to stare at your, worn out and sickly.
"Come here," you say as you bring her over to you and hold her in your arms.
You soak there for a while with Moonie in the cooling water, telling her more stories of horrors driving peasants to madness at her request. Today was an alright day.