Two Rivers Isle emesis

The hapless creature that crawled out of the forest was even more unfortunate than poor Zero's stomach, which was settled for the moment. Between the sound of her own traitorous body evacuating what little remained to it and the emaciated wolf's slipper-soft steps, the coyote had not noticed it until it spoke.

When it did, she started, and instantly wondered how she could have missed this thing's approach. It reeked worse than the mud of the swamp. It reeked worse than Zero's vomit did, and that was saying something. The smell of sickness turned her stomach into a writhing mass of knots. She couldn't determine anything about this wolf's sex or age from either appearance or scent, for it stunk worse than death and was half-starved, half-bald, and was covered in weeping pustules all along the length of its legs.

If Zero hadn't been ill before, the sight and smell of this dog was enough to send her reeling away with a gag. The thing's request didn't even register. Get away from me, she hissed at it, putting as much space between her and the unsightly leper as she could before her stomach lurched and she heaved once more.

The strange dog remained where it was, seeming to heed her warning. Zero swiped her foreleg across her mouth, made a low sound of disgust in her throat, and beat a hasty retreat.