Hold on, though we may be too young.

Sometime after midnight, Maral woke to a fire beneath her skin. It was then that she truly felt it: the sickness, buried deep into the marrow of her bones - ready to drain her of life. In that moment when she roused, parched and burning from within, she was sure she'd willingly give herself to the High Elk then and there.

With her head spinning, the shadow collected herself. She pulled herself up into a seated position and became aware of the shakiness in her forelimbs, knowing that she would not be able to trust her hindquarters. Inhaling deep, she tried - unsuccessfully. Maral slumped down again, tired and swayed by a sudden bout of nausea that forced her to retch. The contents (acid, for she hadn't eaten a thing in over 24 hours) of her stomach were forced out onto the ground at her paws and she hung her head, panting and allowing herself time to recuperate.

At last she got to her feet, and Maral moved off. She stumbled, disorientated, and found herself bouncing off almost every tree in the forest in search of somewhere to cool off.


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Faust, in her time, mixtured in the exploration of the forests and the messing with herbs. The former was fueled by vengeance, without the prowess to attack she thought elsewhere to and sought for dirty methods of poison.. But as a child that was limited. Messing with, in-taking some, watching that of even the herd avoid what, and in-take what that was healthy, was an obversation she did within her free time. Eventually becoming more of an interest, since the one she wanted to get vengeance against.. Was absent, alongside with a few other siblings.

She didn't know names, only knowing what made her feel better, and what made her feel worse — and what she should not, by any means, devour. Strict notions to keep away from the most poisonous of berries, perhaps there was a time that she would even be near death, if her neglect just went a bit further. But with the watch of many ; she remained normal.

But someone was not.

Faust could see her sister in the distance, wobbling as if drunk like the elk that ate the fallen apples, looking sickly by an observation alone. Not drunk, but observed as the same when the water was drunk. The tainted, where her brother had perished under and Faust couldn't help feel a rise of fear along her pelt, thinking if she lost but another sibling, someone who cared for her so. Posessiveness, that she couldn't leave without the permission of the frosten-young.

"Sister? Are you okay?" Faust said, walking behind her.

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