Redhawk Caldera If the world would end today

Maybe he should have known that devouring babes fresh out of Magpie's cursed womb would give him the runs. But Peregrine hadn't anticipated it, nor the sheer intensity of raging buttsickness it would entail. He spent nearly an entire week shitting his brains out all day, every day, and then struggling to get enough food and water to avoid dying. Only for the cycle to repeat in an endless loop. By the end of it, he was physically exhausted and smelled like ass puke.

He hadn't strayed far from the rendezvous site during the throes of his dead baby disease and he was there when a tired-looking Elwood padded into view. The Alpha sat up from where he was chilling in the longer grass at the clearing's edge, pausing to study his friend's face before snatching a dead rabbit from a nearby stockpile and approaching the Beta. There was no Lucy in sight, which didn't bode well.

He said nothing, just set the food gently at Elwood's feet, then backed up a few paces—twice as far away as usual to spare Elwood the disgusting odor—to take a seat and lend an ear.