It had taken a few days to stop vomiting the worms. No matter how many times she did vomit, it felt as if there was always one left. Wiggling beneath her skin, waiting for the right moment to terrify her. She couldn't get the image out of her head. That tawny wolf leaning over her arm, latching on before worms dropped from open lips as if the sky had opened up to rain. Eating was impossible, sleep was restless. Her mind was becoming deranged, paranoid. Everything around every corner was out to get her. Dark hollows formed beneath her heterochromatic eyes as she stared out across the expanse of stone.

At least here, on the steppe, she had a clear view of everything. No trees to hide in. No bushes to hide under. She could see anyone or anything coming for at least half a mile. Her companions kept their distance, too. The look of worry in their eyes was evident. Their movements hesitant as they offered her meals from a distance. Made her a small fire at night so that she would at least stay warm, huddled up against the cold stones. One fallen stone to her back, the open field in front of her. No one would be able to take her surprise this way.

The sun was beginning to set as her companions once more made a fire. Delphi shivered and then gagged. Every tremble of her skin convincing her mind that it was more worms growing, breeding, and thriving in her body. Fevers came and went. Sweat leaked from every pore as she panted, both nose and tongue dry. Weak, feeble, deteriorating. Was there any hope for her left?

"Delphi"

Ronan's nose was trained to the reek of infection and seemingly overnight it was everywhere. He'd spent weeks checking every nook and cranny he thought the infected might retreat to, anything close to the underground metal tunnels he was familiar with and he'd found nothing. Not even a trace. But he couldn't even breathe without the scent near walloping him in the face, it was seemingly everywhere in wolves and other animals alike. He'd been killing those he could and avoiding those he deemed too risky to engage, but he knew it wouldn't be enough, there would always be more out of reach.

And the giant worms that had emerged- he'd never seen them before, he was just as shocked as everyone else. They hadn't been a thing where he came from, but he'd never had the whole picture from the start, maybe things were different here, maybe it was because they could borrow and grow till- he sucked in a breath. This wasn't helpful, he wasn't going to die chasing down the truth he just had to...cope. That was all anyone could do.

Thinking he was out to put another sod out of their misery, he didn't really pay much mind to the borders he stomped over. They really ought to thank him, that it was sheer naivety letting things get so far, but he understood feelings could get in the way. Many didn't have the heart for it; and it wasn't like Ronan enjoyed this. He didn't, truly.

"Do you know when you were infected?" He asked, keeping a wary distance of the girl as she trembled between the rocks. For a moment he thought it was just the flickering flames, but she seemed to have orange speckles on her coat, hidden amongst the blue and white.

Her ears heard his approach, but her brain did not acknowledge it. Her eyes were lost in the dancing flames of the fire as her companions tried to feed her something, anything. But her jaw stayed pressed close, teeth bared at them as a pathetic growl loosed into the darkening air. They would soon give up, only hoping that she would attempt at some point. Resigned, Binti and Tassi look up, fur bristling as they sight the very large man coming closer. He is not of Hemlock, his scent strange and alluring.

At the sound of their warning growls that only dampen when he stops a distance away, Delphi looks up. She eyes him warily as his rugged tenor breaks through the crackle of her fire. It takes a moment to register his question. Infected. She supposed that's what she was now. Would the infected ever be cured? Delphi can't help the fear that flashes across her face. Was she truly going to die?

"A few days ago." There's a gruff edge to her tone that dampens the usual spitfire energy. "My adoptive grandfather slayed the wolf that did it, but it was too late. My stupidity," Delphi cuts herself off. Instead, she lifts her injured leg to the light. She refused to wear bandages. The thought of trapping the worms beneath her skin was horrifying and disgusting. So it grew infected around the edges though the inner, tender skin areas were healing slowly. Her companions washed and slathered ointment on it daily, but a scar would remain. "My blood is harmful to those that ingest it. It's almost like getting a sharp zap to your tongue or tastes as if you're eating poison. I thought it would work," her lips lift in a snarl that's aimed at herself. How could she have been so stupid?

"Delphi"