Luneshale Pass libertad en cadenas

Thiago watches Beau warily as the wolf moves through the patches of greenery, picking through the sparse vegetation. The other wolf’s confusion is apparent, but at least he’s trying. Thiago’s body is trembling, his paws cold against the dirt as he forces himself to move, to focus, his eyes scanning the ground.

He spots a few remnants of the summer flora still clinging to life: a withered dandelion here, the dried-out remains of fireweed there. Useless. He kicks at them with a frustrated snarl. The nausea is getting worse, a twisting pain in his stomach that makes it hard to think clearly. His eyes flick over more patches of grass, most of it yellowed and dying from the cool autumn nights. His mind feels foggy, and he’s not sure if it’s the withdrawal or the thin air, or both.

Then his gaze lands on something. A small cluster of leaves—dark green with jagged edges and small clusters of red berries. Holly. He knows enough to recognize it as something dangerous. Poisonous. His ears flatten against his head, and he makes a mental note to avoid it. His eyes continue searching, desperate, but his vision keeps blurring, making it harder to focus.

His paw brushes against a different plant—a low, creeping vine with three distinct leaflets. Poison ivy. He recoils quickly, recognizing the threat. His fur bristles in irritation. Why does it all have to be so difficult? Why now, when he’s at his weakest?