The Sentinels heart in hand

AW but @Deirdre will be making an appearance.

Foggy – it was what his mind felt like, and Constantine seemed to propel himself quietly through the tall sequoias’ in a light daze. He limped now – only the day before when trying to fish, the yearling had cut his forelimb on a sharper rock within the waters, and the wound now not only festered, but refused to heal. Pus oozed from it now, and a shudder surpassed the Mayfair as he felt a chill pull at him.
 
He was no medic – he did not hold the talents of any of his sisters, but he did not the signs of malnourishment. His gaze drifted off to the direction of the sea, losing focus for a moment on what his intention had been. His thoughts had been upon the borders, where he spent most of his days – travel outside of the pack was rare now.
 
A wave of nausea came to him then, and pulling his ember eyes from the waters view, the wolf made to drag himself forward once more, attempting to push past the pain in his leg before his vision spotted. Darkness swarmed him, and before the wolf could make a sound, he was down, his thinning figure a listless heap upon the floor of the forest.