Yellow Weaver
Loomi shuffled her way through the temple in an unstable daze, wrapped up in her ladybug blanket that she had recieved what seemed like forever ago now. She was exhausted, with chills running up and down her spine so quickly they were practically running a marathon. The Godoan had felt like this before, or at least she thought she did, but it was never quite this bad. On fire is what it felt like, but the cold kind.
Maybe that didn't make sense, but it did in her head.
Unfortunately, she had absolutely no idea how to fix being on fire. So that was where her network of very smart and knowledgable friends came into play. She would fumble over to the door to Braze's room, leaning on the wall before gently tapping on his door.
"Braze," Loomi called, not confirming if he was there or not. She could already feel that he was. "Can you help? I'm on fire."