Chapter 1: A Sore Throat and a Sicker Stomach

Robin's throat felt like it was on fire, and his stomach churned with a queasy nausea that seemed to worsen with every step. He winced, trying to swallow, but it only made his throat hurt more. Why had he insisted on leaving camp that morning? He had woken up feeling terrible, but had brushed it off as just a minor bug. Now, as he trudged through the dense forest, he realized his mistake. He should have stayed in bed. As he walked, the trees seemed to blur together, and his legs felt like lead. He stumbled, catching himself on a nearby tree trunk. His vision began to spin, and for a moment, he thought he might actually pass out. Panic set in, and he forced himself to take slow, deep breaths. Just as he was starting to think he couldn't make it much farther, he heard the sound of rustling leaves and snapping twigs behind him. He turned to see John and Tuck, their faces etched with concern, hurrying towards him. "Robin, what's wrong?" John asked, his voice firm but gentle. "You look like you're about to collapse." Robin tried to speak, but his throat was too sore. He managed a weak croak, and Tuck immediately took charge. "We need to get him back home, John. Now." John nodded, and together, they flanked Robin, supporting him on either side. Robin leaned into their combined strength, grateful for their help. As they walked, Tuck kept a close eye on Robin's face. "You were a fool to leave camp this morning, Robin," Tuck scolded, shaking his head. "What were you thinking?" Robin shrugged, wincing in pain. He knew Tuck was right. He had been stupid to push himself when he was feeling so unwell. As they made their way back through the forest, John's expression turned thoughtful. "We'll get you home and get you settled in, Robin. But then, we're having a talk about why you left camp in the first place." Robin's stomach churned at the prospect of a lecture, but he knew he deserved it. For now, he was just grateful to have his friends by his side, helping him through a rough morning. The trees seemed to close in around them as they walked, the only sound the crunch of leaves and snapping twigs beneath their feet. Robin's eyes began to droop, and he felt himself being pulled along, his senses dulled by his growing weakness. As they approached the edge of the forest, Robin caught a glimpse of the camp in the distance. His heart lifted, and he felt a surge of relief. He was almost home. Almost safe. But as they walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Something that had nothing to do with his sore throat or queasy stomach...