The Sentinels as the sun beat down

there was little food, and what water remained had been choked by the dying bodies of locusts. while the caches were still half-filled, lasher doled it out among the wolves in an attempt to make it last as long as he was able. the days were growing warmer, and soon summer would be upon them, but the herds had departed with the death of the green.

he had seen neither buck nor stag, nor elk, nor ruminant of any kind since the clouds had lifted somewhat. they too sought water and food, though if there were valleys shielded from the insect scourge, he did not know where to find them.

his patrols found the bittersweet trail of lucani, she with the hidden illness, and it occurred to him that his kindliness may have cost donnelaith a rank for a fitter wolf. yet he was immediately ashamed of his thought -- he set off to find her, and his eyes beheld her supine form. 

"lucani," he murmured, eyes rife with worry as his gaze drifted over the jutting bones beneath her fur. "when was it last that you ate?"