More Plot. Also...

((Drats! Gathering isn't tonight, after all. >_> SG wont be around till May 5, so the Gathering is postponed till then. Not to worry however, everyone mentioned in the last post will be going. ☺ Here's the finish of the plot I started two posts ago...))

Not long later, Rogue was positioned as comfortably as possible in Nanack's den. Clawface paced back and forth outside the den. She had seen his deep, shredded wounds. That was bad enough, without the possibility of those disgusting outcast's claws being infected with anything...or even...Clawface tried desperately to push the thought away, but it came anyway.
Rabid.
The Alpha was unsure as to why she felt so panicked. She could even feel her heart thumping against her chest. It had been ages since she had even noticed it. It felt strange.
Of course, she had been worried when Night fell ill, but this seemed...different. How it was different, Clawface didn't know. She immensely disliked the feeling of helplessness that overwhelmed her. She wasn't used to it, and it enraged her. But a moment later, Nanack emerged from the den, Mystic padding behind her.
Clawface was in the medic's face in a moment. "How is he?"
When Nanack hesitated, Clawface snarled. "Talk to me!"
Mystic's eyes widened slightly. Nanack jerked her head back, surprised by the harshly spewed sentence. "He should make a full recovery. How long that will take, I've no idea. At least a moon. Likely more."
Clawface bared her fangs at the ground and stormed away. Her eyes flashed like lightning and she curled into a tight ball inside her den. She shut her eyes and buried her nose in her tail.
Suddenly, they snapped open again. What was wrong with her? Why was she so enraged? Why hadn't she acted this way when Night was ill? These thoughts infuriated her. She was more intense about Rogue than her own Beta? Clawface, disgusted with herself, knew what she needed to do. She stepped out of her den and did he rbest to keep her cool as she headed to the prey-pile. She grabbed a rabbit, placed it between her paws, and shredded it. She ripped it apart as best she could till there wasn't much left. She lapped up a few pieces of meat, and kicked the bits of fur into the brush. The pleasure of simply tearing into something and letting all her stress out on it eased her emotions, and in a much better temper she trotted a short ways from the camp to find another rabbit to replace the one she had just demolished.