Dawnlark Plains your pages are full, your age is a lie

Soon, the sickly scent of sickness had wafted into Loir's nose, belonging to a fox. When the grey-and-black wolf had thought it had been carrion, it turned out to be a possibly rabid fox. Loir nodded at Dawn's instruction. This fox had to be chased out so that way it wouldn't infect the whole pack. It had to be chased out for its own good, or maybe put out of its misery, but that would be too dangerous, Loir could get infected herself.

Once Dawn had got the sickly fox to its paws, Loir prepared to get her speed to the maximum and she began charging at the fox, snapping at it and leaping back when it tried to bite her. Soon, Loir noticed the fox try to run, sometimes stumbling. "We can't let it infect the pack." She said as she continued chasing after the fox, watching it run...weakly.