Varang’s and Felix’s yurt is large and spacious, its walls made of woven fiber and decorated with intricate patterns and paintings. A central fire-pit burns brightly in the middle of the space, illuminating the room with a warm, flickering light.

Felix lies on the piles of furs in the corner, coughing and breathing heavily, his skin covered in sweat, his usually tan face now reddened by high temperature. The children swarm around him — usually, Varang would shoo them away so that they wouldn’t catch the disease from their father too, but not this time. Every Na’vi (even a halfblooded Na’vi) is immune to the Pandoran tropical fever… not Felix though, unfortunately, considering he’s a human, who’s not immune to most of Pandoran diseases.

Felix shivers and winces as another coughing fit overtakes him. His body aches all over, but the pain in his chest is the worst. His eyes drift shut, and he moans softly as he tries to find a more comfortable position. The children continue to fuss over him, trying to make him feel better by applying cold compresses to different parts of his feverish body and caressing his hair and face.

Varang enters the yurt, her eyes scanning the scene — her mate, her children surrounding him, trying their best to care for him. She sees Felix shiver and moan in discomfort, his skin glistening with sweat. Her expression softens for a moment before hardening with determination.

She strides over to them, pushing the children gently but firmly aside. She places a cool, calloused hand on Felix's burning forehead, feeling the intense heat emanating from his skin. Her other hand reaches for a bowl of water mixed with a few drops of a shimmering, iridescent liquid.

— Shhh, my dear. Do not struggle against the fever, — she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. — Let it rage through you, let it cleanse your body. I will help you through this trial, will kill all the harmful microorganisms.