Let The Wind Eavesdrop

The call from Basilisk was heard and not ignored. In fact, Wilder began his jaunt over to meeting area as soon as the last note had died on the wind. It was just that... he was sick. Sick like many others and while it wasn't as dire as some, it was enough that moving any faster than a walk put too much strain on him. His lungs struggled and a harsh cough swept from his throat. He was trying to do his best to hide it from everyone. To stay strong and resilient in the face of danger and fear.

But he would try his best. No matter what. So though he missed the first part of the conversation, he approaches slowly as Yara finishes. He notices Gossamer is there as well and finds it interesting. Did he miss something important? Turning his attention to the Warlord, he dips his head. "I've gathered as many wolves as I could find. Most haven't been experiencing symptoms except for a minor few. The ones not sick I've sent to the warrens closer to the cove and have been trying to keep the sick ones with Mortis by the treehouses," Wilder keeps his distance, trying to speak loud enough so that his raspy voice may be heard. It was probably obvious by then that he too was feeling sick, but nothing that would keep him away from trying to help.

"Wilder"