Lips like Morphine

Although it was far behind her now, Creidne could still smell the evidence of illness discovered in Jinx's waste. Even through the darkness she had noted its discoloration, but again more than anything there had been the unsettling sweetness mixed in with the residuals of her consumption. Pleating the length of her muzzle as her tongue lashed out compulsively, Cree continued her impromptu tread across the territory in a decisively pouting manner.

It was her misfortune to have settled with the pack in the midst of such a special catastrophe. Why hadn't she carried on in her adventures for just a little while longer? Surely, she could have found others who shared her base attitude just as well as the wolves of Ouroboros Spine had. Sighing, as there was little else to be done, she went on through the night contemplating the inevitable change that was yet to come.

However, as she came to a difference in her surroundings, Creidne's attentive gaze captured the outline of another in the immediate distance. Scenting the air first, to make sure that it was someone other than Jinx, once this had been ascertained she advanced -albeit with marked caution. Back home, Creidne had encountered very few illnesses, and so her paranoia was on full guard -a good thing considering the especially vicious nature of the unnatural beast at hand.

Swinging her tail low as she made a wide entrance around the back of the wolf, she made no noise in greeting -at least not until she had settled a ways away from him. Taking to staring off into whatever distance that he was, she exuded what had become the whole pack's sense of restless agitation, a mood which inevitably crept into her otherwise smooth tone. "What is to be done?" She questioned boldly before looking at the male. Surely there would be no question in her meaning....