Spotted Eagle Mountain Sad nights linger through the blackness of a hound.

Parasites? Viinturuth scrunched his nose, feeling his skin crawl at the mere mention of such a term. "You mean, like..." he swallowed, realising too late that he might further offend her by speaking what was on his mind without pausing to think about it, "worms!?"

The pale wolf took a careful step away, uninterested in being infected. "Can't you just, y'know, shit them out?" He'd suffered from a vicious bout of the shits once before and, though worms were an unlikely cause, he vividly recalled that his nurse had insisted on inspecting his excrement for any sign. The idea of them thriving in his guts, wriggling around and feeding off him, was quite possibly the most disgusting thing he'd ever imagined.

He did wonder, however, why some plant could remove these bugs from only females, as she suggested. Perhaps guys had more robust bellies? Viinturuth, obviously not at all blessed by the gift of common sense, blinked dumbly at the ashen rogue in silent expectation for a better explanation.