A feeble chestnut head lifted exhaustedly through the den's entrance, his electric gaze greeted energetically by the harsh rays. Perhaps a smile would be added to his complexion if it wasn't for the throaty cough that interrupted his sulking. Though it was a seemingly pleasant summer's morning accompanied with a long night's sleep, he remained to his dismay, sick. With his current state, he was unfit for any usual and mandatory pack happenings, especially with the most recent hunt that had left him feeling drunk on guilt. First he had been falling behind because of the lack of motivation, now an illness had claimed his youthful body. Was he ever going to catch up with his education? Was he ever going to rise through the ranks like he had always dreamed to do? Oh, what was the point anymore? He was too depressed to even think about it. His optimism? Gone. Was he even part of Abaven? A true Abaven member didn't fall inactive with their roles and responsibilities...twice. Maybe he should just leave and never show his face again, join his rogue brother in the land of the lone. They were all such frightening demands that continuously scoured his thoughts like vultures, stressing and poisoning his mind. He shouldn't have to face such decisions and worries; if only he lived a perfect life free of any mental plagues.

Starling was enjoying his new rank, even if it didn't change much. It felt like he carried around a badge of some sort. It made him carry his head higher, a smile nearly permanent on his lips as he moved around doing his job. It was on his way to his store that he heard the chesty sound of a cough, and it caused him to pause. That...didn't sound good. So he'd quickly turn towards the sound, breathing in the familiar scent of his first sparring partner. Tinaro. He remembered him well, fondly, but hadn't seen him around lately. He supposed that was because he kept himself so busy he barely got to see anyone, but something about the scent made him think other wise. Stale? Perhaps...like something hadn't moved too much in a while. Worry crept up like bile in his throat and he trotted quicker towards the boy he had known. "T-Tinaro?" He questioned softly, rounding the corner and gazing into the den where the boy laid. "Are you o-okay?" He asked softly, already mapping out what he'd need to many different scenarios, and whether he had adequate supply in his well stocked store. He'd help Tinaro, no mater what. "Talk""Italian"

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	The man bounded through the territory, happy to be back. He had missed his friend for so long, and at last they were reunited and he was here to stay. He wanted to find something to give to his friend as a present, to show his gratitude. But as he scouted about the territory, a sickly scent followed by a low grumbling and rather violent cough caught his attention. Freezing atop the rock where he had stopped, he peered around as he tried to figure out what it was. Browse knitted together, the male crouching down to better find the source. Slowly, his head tilted halfway down as he spotted a hole in the rock beneath him, and curiosity drew him forth. He spotted a body standing at the entrance to the den, speaking to something else. Wiggling his behind, the Fox leaped down and landed neatly on the ground next to Starling, and he'd turn to find a brown figure lying in the den and looking distressed. Frowning, he peered at the stranger, so this is where the sick scent came from..."Hello there." He greeted Starling, a smile flashing at him before he peered at the other. It was obvious that he was sick now, the scent stale as if the wolf hadn't moved in a while and the den reeked of sickness, but Dart only knew basic things like how to cure a common cold. Frowning again, he glanced at Starling. "Anything I can do to help?" "Speak"

He didn't expect to attract a crowd; one was plenty but two? At least there were more wolves other than his oceanic friend who cared about his wellbeing. Especially with his recent inactivity, it was no wonder someone would come by to check on him. The familiar face of Starling comforted his nerves, and in the back of his mind he knew the young healer would use his expertise to cure his sickness. "Hi Starling," he greeted palely and almost emotionlessly, his drained voice a bare whimper before being interrupted by a violent hack of multiple coughs erupting from his throat - the mere answer to the younger male's inquiry. At the approach of the smaller and unusual stranger, he blinked in a feeble greeting for he had lost his energy to talk. Already feeling tired upon his ebony paws, he settled himself upon his haunches, continuing to stare passively at the two visitors. He wanted to feel okay, though that simply wasn't the case.

Starling would smile gently when Tinaro looked at him and greeted him in his sickly voice. "Hey Tinaro.." He said softly, gently before he blinked at an unfamiliare voice. Lifting his head he'd look to the fox, blinking slightly. The odd...creature had Abaven scent all over him, and for a moment he didn't really care. There was an offer for help, and Star would take it. "Y-yes. C-can you please f-find us s-some moss, and g-go soak it in the river? Tinaro n-needs some water." He said sweetly, smiling to the fox before looking back to his friend. "Tinaro, w-what's wrong? Y-you're coughing, but a-anything else? A-are you getting sick, f-feel weak? C-cold, hot, l-loss of energy?" He'd speak softly, knowing that headaches came from these sort of illnesses. "Can I feel your paw?" He wanted to see if Tinaro was burning up, and the best way he could think of at the moment was to touch his paw pad. If Tinaro was sick, Starling would want to deal with it. It was not a good time to deal with a cold sweeping the pack. Instead he'd just smile to his friend, steady and gentle. Tinaro would be better, he was sure of it. "Talk" | "Italian"

>>He peered curiously at the healer, and then when he looked closely at the other male, his demeanor changed slightly when he noticed how weak the other was. When Starling asked him to get water, he nodded. "Of course, I'll be right back. With that he bounded off to find what was requested of him, and quickly. He bounded towards the Rapids, small body weaving in and out of the rocks as he set his course. He was glad that he still remembered these lands like the back of his paw, the memories of his first stay here ingrained into his mind. When he reached the Rapids, he paused for a moment as he stared out at the waters, contemplating what it might have been like if he had stayed since the first day. A bird cry from overhead jerked him from his thoughts, and remembering that there was someone in need of help, he scrambled towards the trees that grew by the bank, surely they would have Moss. Searching around, he would spot the stuff growing on the north side of a measly little willow. Aha, that was right...Moss usually grew on the northern sides of trees, didn't it? Pleased with his discovery, he clawed off a large chunk and carefully bundled it up before heading down to the water. Once soaked, he made his way back as quickly as he could. He raced across the Plains, leaping over the majority of the terrain until he smelled the sick scent getting closer again. He was careful not to drop the Moss, and was careful to save as much of the precious resource that he could. Coming towards them again, his ears fell a little at the sight of the poor boy. " 'ere you go." He murmured through the soaked Moss, the male held it in his teeth as he offered it to Tinaro. "Speak"

Tinaro meekly stared at the healer, who requested soaked moss from the river. As someone who held no medicinal knowledge, he was only expecting a couple leaves, though it seemed like his sickness was serious. Was it that bad? It couldn't be, he had always been healthy, free of any illnesses. Obviously not anymore, to his dismay.
Before the smaller male returned with the wet moss, of whom he quietly thanked and momentarily began to lap the water hungrily, realising how dry his throat had been, he searched his mind to respond to the Destruction boy. At first his mind had gone blank, though when the healer suggested a few symptoms, he was able to relate to them. "Blocked and scratchy throat; loss in energy; I feel cold but my fur is quite warm; weakness in my legs...what else? Oh, and I sometimes can't breathe properly." As the list carried on, his voice faded and soften until he finished with a wheezing cough. For the sake of his sore throat, perhaps he shouldn't talk so much.