Sunbeam Lair But I don't read those things anymore

Diesel nodded as the hard-ass-in-charge spoke of his pack's... lack of a medic? Wolves had that? The female licked away a persistent string of drool hanging from her jowl. As far as she knew, medicine was the domain of can-openers. A wounded stray would either grit their teeth and wait to get healthy, or whine at and nuzzle against any passing human in hopes of being taken to a vet. Diesel believed in the efficiency of the former.

"I'll survive on my own." The feverish dog shrugged. "Just need rest and food, someone to lick my wounds. My body will handle the rest." And she wholly believed that.

Although, the mention of a "queen" got her curious. What kind of arrangement did this pack have?

"And yeah, give me a week or two and I'll be ready for, uh, soldiering, sir."