His legs ached. Every few minutes the wolf would pause and take a break. Follko knew he was on his last legs when it came to energy. Ever since the infection began sucking his energy away Follko realized that he had to come back.
Depressed that the dark wolf couldn't find a healer outside the pack when there were none within Grizzly Hollow the rusty black wolf limped and forced himself to move back to the pack border. He new that he could not be healed there, but having the pack around, other wolves to reassure him, just to have that company again would make Follko happy nonetheless.
It took him two weeks just to get back to the border in his condition. Now that he was there the mans orange eyes glanced around at the familiar territory beyond the border. I have been gone for so long... I should howl at the border like I did so long ago.. He thought quietly while letting himself lie on the cold ground resting his pained body.
For an hour he rested so that when someone came for him he would be able to move a bit less stiffly. Then the ill man stood up and loosed a crackling howl. His voice was shot and just moving his muzzle to howl set fire to the whole left side of his swollen face. Quickly he finished the howl then lie back down again and waited. Follko shivered a bit as the cold leached from the ground into his bones.
"Speech goes between these."
--Edgar Allan Poe