I L L N E S S

The petite white female was in an ill manner. She couldn't count the days, weeks, months that she had been sick. It had crept up her slowly starting with mild stomach pains. Soleil hadn't considered it to be something to worry about. It had gotten worse and worse until she began to doubt that it was from bad meat or something small.



Before she knew it Soleil was bedridden! Her body ached and she could hardly even eat. She could only be grateful to have already weaned her puppies. What a failure of a mother she had been here of late. They didn't get to see her much, she was too fearful they might get sick. She lay now, chin in the dirt, hiding away int he den. In the slowest of manner it seemed she was improving. Her strength was coming back but she was still exhausted by late afternoon.



Blue eyes locked on the tunnel before her, lashes heavy on her eyes. She could smell the food that waited for her outside of the den. Just beyond reach. It was good exercise to retrieve it. She needed the exercise. She groaned, legs stretching before her as she put the effort to push her hind end up. Rump first she got up.



Now Soleil had always been a tiny little thing but she had surpassed being tiny. To be told Soleil related more to a white coyote than a wolf these days. Eating very little and puking up what she did eat had caused her to drop weight. Her stomach was sunken in, her fur dingy and clumpy. The bones that made up her rib cage could be counted it you saw them from the correct angle.



The emaciated fem moved step by step, tongue lolling out. She could see the chunk of red meat. Striated muscle just for her. Licking her chops Soleil moved a little faster. The scent of the fresh meat came to her nose and her stomach flipped.



Cramping pain developed in her stomach and her back arched. Soleil's head lowered as her muscles pumped. With a horrible sound bile rose from her stomach and hit the ground. Clear liquid. She had nothing to give up. Tail hung pitifully close to going between her legs in submission. The ill wolf moved away from the food and the vomit, seating herself to the right of the den entrance, opposite the vomit.