Sun Mote Copse If you could see what I see, you'd be blinded by the colours

Since she had returned, Colt's condition had not improved much. The pack was so short on adult members, so when he weakened, hunting to support him became a task that Niamh took upon herself, trying not to ask too much of the others. She had mentioned her worries to @Finley when she noticed that Colt had begun to grow weaker. His spirits remained high, and he put on a good face for the kids- but Niamh wouldn't be fooled. Niamh knew well enough that he wasn't getting better. 

It seemed like he was holding on- until he wasn't, any longer. Everything went downhill so fast, and the morning the fever came, she was out hunting for him until something in the wind shifted. There was an odd silence that fell, and a stillness that hung on the air that caused the fur along the nape of her neck to bristle and lift. She growled as she paused for a moment, looking over her shoulder as though expecting something to leap out at her any instant. But rather than having something charge at her, she felt something pull her, tugging at her instincts. She abandoned her hunt and returned to the den, only to find it was empty. 

Cold, feverish dread filled her chest, stealing her breath away. "Colt?" She hollered, her voice thick with emotion. She knew the scent of sickness, and she followed it as it led away from the den- so fresh it made her gag. His trail led toward the lake so for a few moments, she harboured the hope that maybe he had just gone to get a drink. She wanted to see him there, standing, with his head lowered, lapping at the water's surface- only to see that he had collapsed, and was laying still by the lake's side. Too still. 

"Colt!" She yelled, and slid to a stop near his side. Before even checking him, she bellowed out a call for aid- a throaty, terrified sound that leapt into the air, hanging there shrill and unwavering for a moment even after she'd finished calling. She nudged his shoulders and stepped over him, to nudge his other side, frantically trying to push some life back into him. "Get up, Colt, please," She begged, shoving his shoulders with the top of her muzzle, but he simply rocked with her movement and became still again. With a sob, she lay down beside him, and nudged his muzzle; she'd only just missed him, as his body was still warm beside her, soft and gentle, but relaxed so heavily that there was no way it would ever move on its own again. Her cries filled the air as she sobbed into the coarse fur of Colt's shoulder, feeling more helpless now than she ever had before.