You should account me the more virtuous, that I have not been common in my love...

It was too late. There was no cure. Not for him.

He had done so many things. So many terrible things and now, the end was here. Through the red haze of the rage and the dryness of his froth framed jaw, he could see the darkness looming on the horizon... But he couldn’t just leave without letting her know why. He had made a promise, and he had broken it. He had left when he swore he never would but it was for the good of the pack... for the safety of all. He could only hope that she would forgive him - even if he didn’t deserve it.

He stumbled, his once heavy limp - a leg now dragging in the snow uselessly at his side. The tear at his neck burned, itched... He wanted to turn and tear his own skin from his flesh... but he needed to focus on the task at hand. He was almost there.

His howl was distorted, dry and cracked but the warning was clear. He was back, but he was not safe. He could only hope that his lady would hear the plea amongst his warning. He wanted to say goodbye.

Heavy. He felt so heavy. Allowing himself to collapse into the snow. Her voice was like velvet caressing his ears, an anxious whine answering the soothing sound of her voice. What had happened? It was all such a blur. Shudders wracked his frame as he bought his good paw up to swipe at his muzzle. The wound on his neck burned and if he had been able to drag himself upwards he would have scratched at it, tearing the skin further from his neck. He wanted it gone. Maybe if it was gone he could get better?

He tried to process the words that had caressed his ears What happened? What happened? Why? Why had it happened? He had asked himself time and time again. “Strange pack... Away... Young ones taken... Hollow. Pass. Gone... My fault... all my fault.” He wasn’t making an awful lot of sense and he knew it. His voice was cracked and harsh. “Cure! They have the cure!” he barked more frantically, clearly half crazed before his breath was cut short. It was as if he had been kicked in the ribs by a buck at full strength, he gasped but no air came. The end was near and he knew it.

As the stars began to dance before his eyes and he resigned himself to his fate, his breath came back with a frantic gulp of air that resulted in a fit of coughing. He gasped and pushed his leg beneath him trying to bring himself upright enough to sit but it was hopeless. He would get half way up and then collapse again. Finally he resigned himself to a position somewhere between up and down, glazed eyes searching for the face that matched the angels voice. There was a pleading in his eyes, begging for forgiveness. He had never meant to abandon her too.

Letting himself fall to the ground again he tried to calm his rebellious body. If he lay still, it somehow didn’t hurt as much as the tremors overcame him. If he stretched out further, the gasps were fewer, and he could breath easy for a moment. He had never explained to her why he had left Copper Rock Creek in the first place. He had never told anyone of his deep shame at the things he had done, half mad with jealousy and grief at the loss of so many. Now was hardly the time, and yet, she needed to know, if not all of the old skeletons than at least the more recent ones. But his guilt at his second crime would not be so justified without the truth of the first.

“My sister...” He began, his dry voice hoarse - his aversion to water newly gained with his illness helping little to carry his voice, but enough that the tale might reach her ears without the need for her to grow too close. “Was once a River wolf. While I searched for the missing ones, I came across her trail on the mountain.” His tale was slow, laced with gasps and barking coughs... but he had to let her know, even if she thought him a monster afterwards.

“She had left them, under the cover of night. A litter in her belly borne in deceit. I was so... so angry.” and now he couldn’t even remember why. It wasn’t him she had wronged, beyond the dirty mark that it left upon their family name but there was no lack of those in their history. “Under the cover of a storm I took one while she slept. A boy as dark as the man that slept beside her...” His actions had been reckless and he had paid the price in the end. “She came after me, got trapped on the other side with me and a young one, the three that were left with no mother to care for them...” His remorse was clear, yet unaware that another had gone missing that night. “By the time I got back, two remained... raised by the Lake wolves...” Another coughing fit ensued. But he planned on making the most of his sanity while it remained.

“They... they wanted me to scare a young one, offered a cure in exchange. I just wanted to get back, I wanted to get better for you and your pack!” had he the energy to spare it was clear the broken creature would be weeping, but he hardly had the time left. “It was far from the Lake, strangers I thought...” and now it was clear where his tale was headed. “She had gathered another pack, somehow reclaimed her son, though there was no sign of the girl child... I... My own blood...” his distress was clear as he struggled for breath. There had been a trail of another he had crossed after the realisation no cure existed.

“Tracks.” he muttered again. “Tracks, young, female. Cedarwoods. Over the Mountain.” as quickly as it had come, he was slipping again. Stretching out further to try and ease his breathing, the wolf was a contorted wreck on the ground. He wouldn’t let go yet. “Grey one - sick. Black one... old one - only smell.” His jaws clamped as another series of jerks wracked his body, hell bent on holding on long enough. Just long enough to share what he could. It could after all be the difference between life and death for one of his pack mates.