The forest cryptid didn't want to leave home now that'd she'd come back again, but she was going downhill. Her unkept pelt was matting and there was no trace of color left that she always decorated herself in, but neither seemed to bother Fiora. The tip of her muzzle was burned from repeated attempts to get water from the lake only to recoil from its poisoned surface at contact. Worst of all though, was the hunger -- the terrible hunger. It gnawed at her from the inside out as if consuming herself, and Fiora could hardly sleep for it.
But there was nothing here in the Respite where the thread of sentiment had tethered her, and she was growing thin.
She had not the mind to plan anymore, and even when she told herself 'hey, maybe it's time to leave', she usually lost track of what she was doing mid-stride and wandering back towards what was familiar. How long would it remain familiar?

Fiora didn't know where anyone was. She remembered that Mir should have been close, but not when they'd spoken last. Last night? Last month? Across the valley? She remembered speaking with the twins, but that, too, could've been last night or any span of time before. Everything blurred together, and only certain moments stood out in her mind.

There was fog on the ground and clouds in the sky, and Fiora's only current thought was that it was cold. She had wandered back down for the upteenth time to the lakes quiet surface for a drink and, upon dipping her lips into the purple-hued water, jerked back with a dismayed note to stumble away again. After a few steps, she paused and cast her tongue around her scabbing muzzle and whined, dipping her head to lap at the morning dew off of the nearest autumn-wilted leaf.

She ate it, gnawing the wet, not-at-all-crunchy leaf with a flat look of shadowed, miserable indifference.

Skill:

---

---

After dropping off The Package at Camhanaich, she could not help but be drawn back toward the Respite. Elysium had been her home for so long, and it still had a certain pull to it. It was something she could not ignore, not while she was so close. And despite the toxicity that emanated from the water, she did not fear returning there. Not for a short amount of time, anyway.

Her mind, in a rare state, would wander. She no longer had her cave. She no longer had her mothers at her beck and call. She no longer had her son.

Many things would be placed on the back burner as she continued to explore the 'newness' in her life. Newness ... yes. Her relationship with Wardruna, the effects of the plague in the North, the growth of the Blue Turtlehead. Her life would twist and turn in unexpected ways. But, in her mind, it was all according to plan.

Yes. It was all within her control.
It had to be.

But that did not stop her from wandering the emptiness of the hollowed paths of Elysium. And where she thought she would be alone, she was not. There was a ghost here — a strange shell of a familiar being. A cousin.

Sreda pressed her lips into a thin line, cupping her ears forward as she observed the feral, rugged movements that Fiora displayed. Drinking the water. Eating the leaves. No, this was more something set for Amaya, not Fiora. Something was very, very off. And it was very, very curious. I'd be wary about how much you drink. The words held idle warning, a single brow knitting as she approached Fiora, slowing as she neared and watching the way that mouth crunched idly at the rotten leaves.

---

The leaf may very well have been the most foul thing Fiora ever put to her mouth, unless one counted a kiss to Amaya's decorated pelt ( how did she get even her cheek so... grimy? ). Fragments of that thought settled over her mind like a blanket being slowly unfurled, but even as it settled, she didn't... stop chewing the floppy thing. It was halfway crumbled into her jaws when a voice snaked out like the ripples of fog lightly encasing everything.

Sreda. Fiora could've cried. In fact, her eyes grew shiny with emotion. If there was anyone that could help.... Fiora turned clumsily to find her cousin. Not the young ones, the babies, the ones that needed shielded; a companion she'd learned poisons with, taken walks with Harper together, grew up beside. A friend. A companion. A knowledgeable witch in her own right.

Oh, she'd said something -- the... water? Fiora dipped her head shamefully.

None, she promised in a warble, Just... forget....

She grinned, sticking out her tongue as if to show that only the vveeeeeery tip of it was burnt. The leaf, half balled, fell from her mouth and landed with a splat on the earth below. It wasn't the leaf she needed anyway. Which one WAS? There had to be something to help, even just her symptoms if not the problem, but why couldn't she remember anything?

Ely...sium?

Where was everyone? What had happened to home? Harper? Even if she lost herself, please, tell her everything was okay. It was an entirely different pack scent on Sreda, one familiar in a way she couldn't place. An ally?

Skill:

---

---

Something was off.

And not in the way that Fiora was normally off.

The scattered, robotic movements. The idle chewing. The glassy eyes (was she crying? How foul). Sreda's brow would lift, a modicum of concern crossing those darkened features as the woman took an idle step closer to the Husk-of-Fiora.

What's happened to you? The question was curt, and Sreda would move ever closer, taking a paw to place it beneath Fiora's chin. Carefully, if Fiora allowed, Sreda would lift Fiora's head, leveling their eyes so that she could stare directly into her cousin's pupils. Half-chewed leaves dribbled from the corners of Fiora's mouth, catching in the dark fur of Sreda's paws, but Sreda's gaze did not waver.

She inspected her.
Fully. Deeply.
Unnervingly.

"Just... forget..."

What did you eat? Are you testing poisons? Her voice was hardened at the edge, her concern masked by flurries of agitation. Did someone test poisons on you? The thought riled Sreda, igniting a sear of unusual, emotive fire in the pit of her gut. Should anyone have tested rotten poison on her cousin ... oh, she would find the most devastating way to pay that forward.

"Ely...sium?"

Sreda let her paw fall back to the earth, tufted ears still pressed firmly forward. The pieces slid together. Had Fiora forgotten that they'd left? Had something damaged her, and her instinct was to crawl back to the familiar, but now so unfamiliar, lake that Elysium had once called home? It was ... almost as if ...

The way the body moved, as if disconnected from the nervous system. The strange draw to home. The lack of memory.

The Plague? Sreda's lip would twitch, head tilting slightly as she observed ... hopefully that Fiora would find a way to communicate.

---

What it was that tipped off Sreda in particular, she couldn't know, but Fi watched her cousins eyes hone in on her before words even left her burnt lips. Hell, she'd probably been watching for a while. Had she seen it in anyone else yet, or was Fiora the only one burdened with such a fate? Was her price as unique as it was terrible? Would Sreda know what to do, or was Fiora just in the best care possible until her demise? As far as Fiora could assume, she herself was the Doctor of Elysium now, if it hadn't crumbled. She should know how to take care of herself, she had work to do, the garden needed prepared for spring, she didn't have time to be dead!
Fiora heaved a heavy sigh as Sreda asked the dreaded question of what happened, putting a paw beneath her chin. Other than avoiding the tip of her muzzle being touched, she was putty in her cousins paws, violet gaze pleading and confused as she did as she was bid. For a long time, the snowy she-wolf didn't answer; mulling, trying to formulate a sentence, trying to remember exactly what had happened since she left Elysium. Right after the dream, she and Mir had just... gone. What if Auntie Valeska had taken everyone and moved the pack somewhere less toxic? Had they all scattered to try and fix the problem, like the twins had, like she and Mir? Had so many died, Elysium was no more? Was it just her, the twins, and Sreda in the area?

Sreda asked about poisons, foul play, and Fi shook her head gently.

Paid... price, she murmured, ...rune.

Once more, she gestured to the waters that weren't quite as dark as they had been. She had to --had to-- keep believing she'd done something good, that the price she'd paid wasn't for nothing.

Found... in... a pit, she carried on, brows furrowing as she recalled, Drug... it out... of wa...water.

Sreda didn't comment on the whereabouts of the pack, and it unsettled Fiora. Something must've happened -- but what? Was she just being cryptic, too worried about Fiora to speak on much else, or was something seriously wrong that she didn't want to reveal?

The Plague?

Fiora bounced her head in an idle nod, tongue swiping around her lips. Sreda was already so close, but the Bacchus scooted closer to press her head against her cousins chest with another defeated sigh that tapered into a keening whine.

H-help....