AFFLICTION
02-19-2014, 01:26 PM
The yearling would struggle to keep himself conscious, but illness was quickly devouring his being. During an experiment he had ingested the wrong set of berries, and instead had taken one abrus precatorius, a very deadly berry capable of murder. Oh, how foolish had he been to mix up the crimson berries. Now he was vomiting, fatigued, and was quickly losing his vision as he strode deeper into the unknown. He had traveled far from the moor beneath the influence of the poison, and he was very disoriented to say the least. He did not realize he was treading into claimed territory, so he collapsed beneath a dead, hollowed out tree. A snarl would boil from his core as various scents wafted across his nostrils, the presence of other wolves apparent. He would lean against the tree with his back against the bark, foam tricking out the corners of his mouth. Surly he looked like a rabid beast, but he was nothing more than a sick boy in need of medical assistance. Breathing heavily he would attempt to catch his breath, hot flashes rolling shivers down his spine. He would again lean over, spewing yesterdays lunch for all to see, following the puke with raspy coughs. He did not care if anyone was here, or if anyone was witnessing his bad decision. He just wanted this poison out of his system before it took completely over. Speech, |
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