The Heartwood do well; do good

He was totally helpless to do anything but squat there while his bowels spasmed endlessly. When he heard someone coughing close at hand, he swiveled his head to look over in that direction. He should’ve felt embarrassed, especially shitting out his insides in front of a young lady, but all Caracal could do was throw his head back and moan again.

A rotten fish, he groaned at the heavens. Fuck meeeee, he added as the fountain of diarrhea finally ran dry and his shit show concluded with a very loud and even more relieving burst of flatulence.

His stomach stopped cramping and he was able to raise his hips. Well, that was pretty shitty, he declared, eyes roaming back to the young age-wolf.

He just noticed the puddle of vomit. He felt kind of bad but Caracal laughed loudly at discovering his bowel movement had actually prompted someone to barf. He couldn’t wait to brag to Killer.

Shit, sorry, he apologized between snorts of laughter, bending over double again at the unintended pun. The laughter combined with the posture resulted in a fresh round of machine gunfire farts.