Swiftcurrent Creek Insidious disaster

"Oh dear," she thought, "He really has lost his marbles." But she continued to guide him, answering him only with an affirming nod that she was, in fact, Fox. For the first time since she had spotted his shadowy figure, Fox wondered if he was not already too far gone. "No," she told herself, "This can't all be for nothing." She wouldn't allow it. If she had to, she would send her fastest wolf to Silvertip and call for Lecter. She didn't care about humility, only the safety of him. He was hers, and she would not let anything take him away.

Slowly, they made their way to the creek, Fox nudging him when he went too far off course or simply stopped ahead of her. She was gentle, kind as she herded him forward toward the creek's slowest-moving portion. In doing so, he slowly began to smell like the creek wolf that he had been. "That he is," she corrected. When they finally made it to the wide, shallow bank, Fox waded knee-deep into the water.

“Come. Drink.” He was simply dehydrated, that was all.