Mother says I am not well enough to leave, but I know I can. I don't breathe well, at best it is a ragged heaving in and a giant wheezing shove out, but I want to find others I can talk to. Being separate from my siblings after I began to get sick was hard, and the orange fruit Mother feeds me is tart and hard to eat despite its sweetness, but I need others to socialize with...even if I am not supposed to.

I know I can get others sick with the cough I have, but if I am careful, I can turn my head away and keep them from getting what ever sickness has struck me. This was the world I knew, pain and agony were ever present and the way I walked showed just how much the disease had affected me in such a short time. In two days, Mother has not fed me, and while she says it is so my body can use the energy to fight the sickness, I am not so sure. I ignore it though, I know Mom will care for me as much as she does the pack. I get cranky when I am tired, and I am tired all the time. This is no world for a puppy, and while today I feel better, there is no telling what tomorrow will bring.

I hate it, the unknown, not knowing if I will be alive tomorrow or if Mother and Father will have to bury me in a week. Sometimes, I feel dead, and in the heat of the fevers, I wish I was. But, today is an up day, and I am going to seize it by the horns as they say. My unsteady gait takes me goose-walking across the sandy terrain of Glorall, and out to the trees just beyond its borders. I stay close to the line, thinking in my childish way that a string of scent could keep me from harm, but it is comforting to know I have a pack behind me and its members are only within earshot. The short walk wears me down, and I lay at the base of a tree, panting and wheezing in my attempt to breathe through the discharge at my nose and the built up fluid in my lungs. One sick puppy, is all Mother says when I get like this, and then she is there with her comfort and warmth - which feels good despite my high body temperature.

Today, I am on my own as I struggle to breathe, each inhalation causing a wracking set of coughs that make me gag and hack. That's about when the trembling starts, and I simply lay down, hurting, coughing and whimpering in a silvery voice that is colored with breathing troubles and pain. Gods, please take this burden from my parents, pack, and self!