What We Hold Dear

A sickness that won't go away. A sickness that has left her feeble and weak, ribs jutting out and hips stark against her red pelt. An eternal, infuriating exhaustion that drained her energy, mental and physical. No matter what herbs she took, or what she ate, it just kept getting worse. Of course, even the food she ate she had to force down most days; her appetite was non-existent. Sometimes, it would come back up, too. That, thankfully, was not that common.

She hated it. She despised it with every fiber of her being. It seemed to happen so quickly, too. At first, she thought it might be advanced age, but then it progressed rapidly from there. She could no longer do simple things; even walks tired her out. And forget about running - ha! That wasn't happening.

She sighed quietly, head on her paws. Oh, what she'd give to get rid of this.