The wolf rushed through the underbrush, lungs pumping like bellows, uncaring as to what direction he took. He felt the parasitic vines creeping into his flesh, his muscles responding slower.
The plague had overcome his pack faster than he ever imagined. The strange plants that infected his kind, growing from them and causing them to attack each other before blooming into disgusting blood-scented flowers.
He barreled through the woods, blindly taking turns and trying to lose himself before it stole his body away. Pain flared as tendrils pierced his skull and creep into his ears, and all went black.