@Veho Here, have some mange!
Oula marched along the bank of the creek, her head held high with steady determination even though her inner resolve was crumbling. She had seen no signs of the female she was looking for, no one she ran into knew anything of a white, blue-eyed she-wolf, if they even bothered stopping to humor her questioning. She could have turned back and gone home, but how could she face her pack as such a failure? Not only had she failed to avenge her packmate's death, but she wasn't doing too well living by herself. Hunting always came as an afterthought to her mission, the tuck of her empty belly apparent under her short summer pelt. Sleep as well eluded the Whitebark female, for the few hours of rest she forced herself to take during the night were filled with worry of wasted time, or more recently, an obnoxious itch.
Oula briefly left the stream-bank to roughly press against the rippled bark of an empress tree growing along the shore. She scraped her flank as she slowly walked forward, lingering as she reached her back haunch and swaying back and forth to scratch the skin on her thigh with vigor. It helped the incessant itching, but the relief was short lived. As soon as she pulled away, it was back with a vengeance. The grey and cream female snorted with irritation, head swinging as she looked back to inspect her thigh. She winced and breathed sharply through her teeth as she looked at it. The fur was missing there, leaving a large bare patch of skin. She wasn't sure whether it had fallen out from all the scratching, or if it had come out on it's own. Even worse than that was the scaly grey skin that covered the area, inflamed red patches scattered throughout. She had no idea what it was, and it had only gotten worse over the past few weeks.