It was obvious from the posture of the ape lord that his wounds trouble him. The traditional manner of simply eating more was not helping him to recuperate and even the clumsy attempts of his females to cleanse the wounds had not prevented infection from taking hold. The stress of such was really beginning to get to the male; already, one of his limbs was turning discolored and swollen from gangrene. If a pack of wolves didn't kill him, the infections would and it was likely it wouldn't take any time at all. For the first time in his life, the beast lord was afraid. The fear made him toss and turn in what should have been restful sleep. It coiled about his throat, twisting each breath into a grunt of pain. It tortured him, robbing the male of every ounce of vitality he possessed.
Finally, with a half-moan, half-bellow of consternation, the silverback jerked up out of his sleep, shuffling until he got his feet under himself before staggering towards the stream where he could get a drink to cool his feverish mind. For a long time, he did not notice Torvald whose dark coat blended so well into the dense vegetation. When Huk did notice the wolf, he had nearly passed Torvald. The gorilla gave an agonized bleat upon scenting the male, making a clumsy lunge at the wolf. Fever and pain made the gorilla weak, but he still held desire to end the one wolf whose pack had nearly destroyed his troop. The desire to fight held sway over even his body's frantic signals that he wasn't well. Huk bared his two-inch teeth and roared tiredly, charging for Torvald with hands held wide to snatch, grab, and break whatever was within reach.