Let The Wind Eavesdrop

Basilisk rubbed a paw across his head, feeling a little short of breath and dizzy as he came to a halt. He seated himself gingerly against the earth, his eyes on Ignita. He watched the way she inched forward, but all he could manage was a slight curl of his muzzle, showing a hint of fangs in warning. He was probably weak enough that she’d actually win a fight for once.

Her news was terrible. Likely the entire pack was infected, and their efforts to keep it separate had been for naught. His head sank a little at the news. He was so tired, and hopelessness swirled in his gut.

He was so tired. What to do… he considered Yara, who had some experience with this, and Wilder who had been working on the quarantine wolves. He raised his head and called for the two of them so they could put their input into the quarantine, if it was worth keeping or lifting. Anyone else that wished to add to the discussion could as well.


"Basilisk"