you said it was a little of something else

Lately in his little life, it was relatively quiet. Some of his siblings and packmates ranged beyond the woods, his mother preoccupied elsewhere all the while. His littermates were his primary company, as ever. Still, thanks to varied interests among them all, Weirs was often left to wander on his own devices anyway, and now was certainly no different.

He was growing taller–longer, leaner–and more confident in his solitude as he further expanded his ranges beneath the forest. Alone, he did not need to worry. He was not weighed down by the worries of his differences here. Just him, it was whatever he wanted...

Summer’s heat often pressed him towards the waterways. Largely thanks to proximity, and a curious interest in what glimmered beneath the surface of the running waters, he had begun to teach himself how to catch small fish. Some days went better than others but he kept himself busy chasing anything that moved in and around the waters. Plus, even failed attempts just helped wet his coat and cool him on hot days–where he was also looking for places deep enough to swim in (to help master that skill before Warwick got back). Weirs happily wore the scent of the creeks more than anything.

Here, today, he had come to a familiar bend to watch the fish and frogs but he could not seem to muster the earnest interest in any of it. He felt.. off, even as he waded ankle-deep in the flow. Maybe just tired. Maybe it was the balmy heat. He realized when he moved his head too fast, it felt like it was spinning on the inside. None of this was doing his appetite any favors, which was uncharacteristic for a growing young boy like him.

He moved himself back to the shoreline and sat down with a huff in the shade, willing improvement to come to his condition quickly.

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set after this

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Maral, too, felt something off. The unsettling of her belly remained, and she felt discomfort bloom in her gut. Her appetite was gone and she'd squatted to relieve herself more so that day. The scat that her body expelled was loose and foul-scented, but she buried it each time and carried on - eager to pretend that she was fit, and that she didn't need anyone's help.

Her mother had warned them that their waters were to blame, but the shadow thirsted as sickness robbed her of vital hydration. She instinctively veered toward the creek, driven by her dry mouth and throat to drink. A heat burned beneath fur and flesh, so much that Maral thought her hide might be set aflame by the time she reached the springs from higher ground; Elkshire streams could not surely all be polluted. So she picked her way toward one she had not yet lapped from, finding herself both surprised and frustrated to find Weirs ahead of her - alone.

Maral gritted her teeth and rumbled to herself. The Queen had let Seaver die alone, so was she intent on letting the others of her youngest brood perish to a similar fate?

She moved to close to distance between herself and where her little sibling loitered, and reached to mouth with rare affection at his tufted ears ears.


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His sit melted down into more of a lay there in the shaded grass, but he kept himself at least propped upright--panting occasionally, mostly just frowning as the sensations that bothered him did not relent. His head felt too fuzzy on the inside, like an itch he couldn't catch. Maybe, for a minute or two, he dozed off when he drifted. He heard a bird caw nearby and it gave him a small start back to the present. Weirs blinked, and couldn't say how long he had been there anyway.

Maral appeared not very long after, and he peered her way as she came to him--far more subdued than his usual, but of any of their family, she was one he was among those he was relieved to see. The younger Déorwine was able to bask in the affection, mustering a soft croon of appreciation as his tail beat against the earth beneath her touch. But he still felt too gross to get up and really do anything back in return.

“S'hot out.” he said quietly to her for an explanation with his ears splayed out.

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He was quiet, withdrawn, and understandably so. Maral was surprised that he'd been so receptive to her touch and even managed a little smile for the boy, though she wondered if deep down he simply wished to be alone. He was sweet, young Weirs. He didn't deserve to experience such a devastating blow, not at his tender age. The shadow's dark eyes were gentle on him as he glanced her way and purled affectionately, glimmering with affection that didn't come easily.

“It is,” she agreed simply, and manoeuvred her frame to position herself alongside her little brother. Maral lowered onto her belly beside him, figuring it'd be better for her to be more at his level, and stretched forward with her forelimbs. Feeling drained both physically and mentally, she propped her cheek atop an outstretched elbow. The shadow blinked up at her younger sibling, “you doing okay?”


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Knowing well that he had to take what he could get when it came to the attention and earnest care of the older wolves in his life, he was happy Maral would pay him any mind. Even if he felt sort of like an overwarm slug at the moment. Tiredly, with a slowing swap to his tail, he watched his older sister settle in beside him. Not the warmest of welcomes, but he was still pleased she would join him here and agree that it was too hot out for much else.

As for if he was doing okay, he sighed slowly, ears out. “Mhm, sometimes.” he answered quietly, figuring it was close enough, maybe vague enough to do. It wasn't wrong. He was fine sometimes. It was just when he wasn't that he felt panic run in his blood, doing nothing to help cool him at this rate. He just tried to ignore that best he could, and press on. But it did weigh on him and he wasn't sure if he wanted Maral to have to worry much about him because of it all just yet.

Somewhere after that, he was pretty sure he dozed off again. At least some part of him did, as he wavered on the edge of trying to listen, and stay halfway present while his immune system worked overtime.

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