Adrian's silence made room for the delusion, more memory than fantasy, to pass a little and he shuddered, huddling up even smaller against the rock face of the foot of the castle, his face red with fever but at least not the pale that it was before. His head panged with pain in time with his heartbeat and he reached up a hand to rub at his forehead, fisting it in that mass of curly hair with a pathetic moan of pain.
He tried to pare out meaning from the words thrown at him but it was so difficult when his head hurt the way it did and all his joints were trying to eat themselves. He slumped over to the side and then curled up like he meant to sleep there, his previous panic thankfully forgotten, at least for now. "I can't fly." he said, looking fretful as though he'd been asked to do so and wasn't a trembling curl on the grass. "I can't, can't get up on a broom anymore, I'm sorry." He closed his eyes briefly then jolted like he'd had a hypnic jerk, pushing himself up to a sitting position, wide-eyed. "I'm falling, I'm falling!" he stammered, the fact that he was on solid ground and unharmed, mostly unharmed anyway, seeming inconsequential.