He was tired. Exhausted. But Starling had a job to do. There was a sickness moving through the packlands, and as little energy he had, he knew he had a job to do. He was still a healer of Abaven, even if his recent...well, even if his usual scarcity left a lot to be desired, he knew he had to help. So he spent most of that morning pouring over his store, tossing the bad and sorting out the stock that might help this bought of sickness. He'd have to count all the sick, and hope he and the rest of the healers had enough to manage it all. He knew where he could find more stock that was probably still alive and well even in the cooling months. There was so much to do, and so little energy to do it. He sighed softly as he shifted through the plants outside of his store. His head felt so heavy he could hardly keep it up, but he didn't feel sick. He didn't match any of the symptoms they all had. No, he just felt...tired, and uninterested. All he wanted to do was go out and try and find Cathaoir, make sure he was okay and healthy and just nap in his fur and let go of all this. He missed the warrior with every ounce of his heart that it was leaving him drained...or was that the stress, the anxiety? He couldn't be sure, all he knew was that he had a job to do, and it was becoming increasingly hard to do it. "Burn Baby Burn" || "Bruciare Bambino Bruciare"

Aaaaagh. Lark had gotten her sick. Damnit. She could feel the same sort of thing he did - so tired, sniffly, a light cough... she felt awful. Ugh. Why now? She didn't want to be sick. At all. On top of that she was paranoid that Farrym would get sick as well, but he seemed fine - no other creature seemed to be getting this illness other than wolves, so perhaps it was exclusive to wolves. Either way, it wouldn't have stopped him from stubbornly and quietly clinging to her shoulders when she decided to force herself up and out of her rocky den. Her fur already felt wet and soaked by the continuous rain; a constant drizzle would hardly be noticed at this point. Nevermind that it wasn't too bright to get cold while having a cold... but that was besides the point. "Lillie," came a soft voice, a warning in the tone that made her freeze. It wasn't often when she heard that tone, but when she did, she listened avidly to the little creature whom she saved so long ago. Her ears flicked back slightly, listening to whatever Farrym had to say. "It's Starling." The officer's eyes widened, before narrowing in anger and annoyance and... hurt. She growled low in her throat, but it trailed off. Damnit, now that Farrym pointed it out, it was so obvious. How had she missed it? Oh, wait, sickness. Stuffed nose. Hard to smell anything. The stiffness in her joints let out abruptly as she sighed deeply. "Thank you, Farrym," she responded quietly. She felt more than heard the reassuring purr, vibrating the skin on her back ever so slightly. She smiled, a sad smile, at it; she knew he was not truly happy with this situation. Not after she had ranted to him, privately, about these issues. He knew Starling was the one who found him along with Lillie; he also knew that Starling caused more anger and pain in the woman than any other wolf that she knew. Resisting the urge to shake her entire body - why, she wasn't quite certain - Lillianna started walking again. That odd, slow, lumbering pace that made her feel like she was about to fall over and was swaying like mad. She obviously wasn't, because Farrym stayed on her back quite easily, but gods was it difficult to walk. She began to walk past, pausing only once to peek at den that remained vacant for so long... at this point, it was more a surprise to find the boy in the den than to find him missing and gone. "Burn Baby Burn" || "Bruciare Bambino Bruciare"