The situation at the camp was filled with underlying worry for everyone; the camp had been poisoned by silver. With most of its residents out of duty, the front line was at its weakest moment. Lucien, their alpha, went with his men to track down his supposed targeted spy. leaving the less-abled ones to figure out what was wrong.
The healer who had been called to the dinner place looked over a very pale soldier, groaning in a half-conscious state. His state looked devastating.
"What have you got for us?" Irah walked up to the healer, and she looked up from her frazzled ginger-red curls dancing at the edge of her forehead. She stood up from where she crouched, hugging her records to her chest as she prepared to give her findings to Irah, who had asked.
"He looks terribly sick," she said.
Irah paused "I suppose that part has already been acknowledged," he stated. She stared wide-eyed, taking a bit to register that she had not given a clear definition of what she was to say to him.
