Blacktail Deer Plateau O' death

Sorrel. The name conjured up an image of a sickly russet girl, whom he'd mostly seen hiding in the dens near the rendezvous site. Her illness made logical sense; Sunny's--and Adi's, too, apparently--did not. The two were big, strong males: a small winter cough should have rolled over them like nothing. Unconsciously, Shale found himself breathing shallower, not wanting to inhale any of what the boy was carrying. If this disease was knocking young guys on their ass, Shale didn't want to risk catching any of it.

"Shhh, it's okay," he assured Sunny, resisting the urge to flinch as the kid hocked up a ball of phlegm that looked like something out of a nightmare. He braced his weight against his nephew, standing with him, though still keeping his muzzle away from the labored breaths steaming from Sunny's nostrils.

"Let's get you back to the rendezvous, huh?" Shale offered, a soft smile stretching his mouth as he glanced over to the boy. He stood strong and firm, allowing Sunny to rest as much weight upon him as he needed to.