Boys Don't Cry - The Cure

Vesper wasn't a selfless wolf. She barely tolerated those around her, and was constantly finding ways to undermine them. The blight in the Armada had frightened and subdued her. Had chipped away at her personality a little more. She discovered she had… affection for some of these Armada wolves, and was afraid for them as well as for her own skin. It wasn't a fun realisation. She didn't want to care. She wanted to grab her stuff and leave them all behind. 


Listening to Oleander admit he was sick she came to a realisation. One she hated with all of her body. She made a face, disgust at herself at what she was about to say. “Then it's a good thing I've had a scratchy throat all day. If the lead blight healer went and killed his idiot self, the rest of the pack would suffer.” There was no way to guarantee he wasn't hallucinating the right herbs in front of him. If he took it, and died, they were all screwed. Herself included. “...my lord.” She added as an afterthought. But she was too afraid to be properly respectful. “Show me how to make it, and try not to kill me.” She said, her voice subdued. There was no way she was agreeing with Oleander being the guinea pig.