He had been ordered to stay on bed rest in his den days before after he was found on his side with a nasty wound running the length of his right shoulder to his leg and with glowing thick ooze dripping from his nose and eyes. At first he did not argue and did what he was ordered to do but now going on a week of strict lockdown in his den, Drachen was starting to lose his mind. The male laid curled into a tight ball on a bison skin in the middle of his den, his oceanic eyes closed tightly but his ears actively twitched and turned as if he was hearing things. His companion, Enzi stopped in her preening on her perch and stared at him with golden eyes, ready to lash some since into him again if he was thinking about leaving the den. But as the seconds dragged on and the black and tan male did not get to his paws, the red tailed hawk went back to her preening and eventually fell asleep. Little did the bird know was that the Mist was waiting for this, his mind clear enough to know to wait his companion out and to wait until her breathing shifted before he blinked open his deep blue eyes stained with the glowing discharge. Drachen spared a glance at his companion before he slowly, ever so painfully got to his paws and carefully made his way outside of his den. Luckily even with his sickened mind and still healing wound, the instinct to be silent on the ground was still there and the man moved near silently further away from his den. "Ok. I'm here. Speak or leave me alone." he growled at the voice he had been trying to ignore for the past week. Well, voices, but there was one that was louder than the rest but unfamiliar. He needed to find out if this voice was a threat to Valhalla or not. He had let the pack down once, he was not going to do it again, even if he died trying. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Erani Adravendi

Time had passed, and she was still there. She wasn’t sure how long she had left on the plane of the living, but there was a driving need to remain tangible and help her family and once-pack through this new plague. With the assessments of the sick in the alcoves done, she’d padded away, finding a spot to clear her head and analyze the findings. Her eyes lifted to the moon, swollen and bright – and constant – and sighed, whispering, " Níl a fhios agam cá fhad a d’fhág mé, ach le do thoil, Luneil, nó cibé duine atá ag éisteacht, iarraim ort an deis a thabhairt dom siúl ina measc níos faide, le cuidiú nuair is féidir liom. Má chríochnaíonn sé liom a bheith á snaois, fiú as Somnium, glacfaidh mé le mo chinniúint." For a long breath, she listened for something, but the only sound she heard was the subtle scuff of a stealthy paw on the soil, turning her head to find a tan and chocolate man, visibly ill like Tel and the others, with a long fresh scar down one leg. There was only one wolf this could be, since he was the only one that she’d not examined yet that she’d been told of. "I am Erani Adravendi, Once-Queen and Healer of Valhalla. I’m trying to make heads or tails of this plague… and my own presence here, but that’s neither here nor there right now. If possible, I’d like your help." She kept her tones soothing as she rose and turned to face him, posture calm and quiet, though she kept her distance. She wasn’t entirely sure she and anyone like her was exempt from catching the plague the living were experiencing – and dying from. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

At first the world was silent, the voices in his head falling quiet for the first time since the sickness took hold of him. Then came a voice, soft and feminine but regal. Drachen turned his dark head to the woman but even in his ill state he could tell she was not of this world. Her frame looked like she was standing in front of him but the subtle details like silence where the ground should have whispered under her shift of weight and the lack of gentle breeze in her fur. Drachen shifted his dark ears toward her as she asked for his help. His oceanic blue eyes scanned over the supposed late queen, his weight shifting painfully over all four legs just in case it was a rouse by the firefly creature that got him into this mess in the first place. But the longer he stared into her strong steady gaze and non combative stance, slowly the Mist shifted his weight back off his injured leg. "What may I help you with?" His soft voice rumbled, offered with a small dip of his head in respect to a Queen. He would listen to what she needed and if it sounded suspicious he would find Aurielle immediately. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think