Otter Creek Only here for the weekend

When they came upon the figure prostrate on the ground, Wildfire felt her stomach drop. She was a slip of a wolf with pallid fur drenched by the rain so that it clung to every sharp angle of her thin body. She was in bad shape and the fresh red gash on her shoulder immediately drew the Feisripa's eye. She winced sympathetically as she watched the rain striking against the tender, torn flesh. Instinctively, she moved closer, shielding the fallen she-wolf as best as she could with her own body.

She glanced upward, blinking raindrops from her lashes, as the two-toned wolf disembarked to find some herbs. Wildfire's attention then returned to the fallen woman. She hadn't reacted to her presence, and when the red she-wolf peered into her face, her gaze was not returned. "Can you hear me?" she whispered, but no response came. Maybe she's in shock? Wildfire wondered to herself. She then shook her head lightly and moved her smudged muzzle toward the lesion. "I'm going to clean your wound," she said, even though she didn't think her patient was listening.

Although she had proven immune to a black widow's bite not so long ago, Wildfire fell prey to the toxins almost immediately. Her tongue stilled when she began to feel dizzy. She tried to sit up straighter and swooned, nearly toppling over the prone shape before her. Quite out of nowhere, she vomited forcefully, directly onto the other wolf's forelegs. She felt terrible about that for a split second before she found herself tipping forward. She wasn't able to stop it as she slumped atop that pale, wet skeleton.

She had no idea what was happening but Wildfire couldn't remember ever feeling so frightened. She fought against the worsening disequilibrium, struggling to right herself, but her strength had sapped out of her. Boneless, she remained unceremoniously sprawled as the rain pelted against her. No sound escaped her, though in her head, she urgently begged for the black and white wolf to return—utterly oblivious to his nefarious role in her current affliction—although soon she became too disoriented to form coherent thoughts at all.