Fen's breath huffed loudly as he ran, not really sure where they were even going. How were they supposed to find Ravenia out here? He could try and get a scent, but it seemed that Ravenia and the doctor had left in a car, not leaving much for Fen to follow. Just when he was getting disheartened, a flare shot up into the sky. The wolf skidded to a stop and looked up at the smoke trail. His head quickly turned back to Shay, making sure she saw it to. He gave a couple raspy barks and lunched forward, towards the flare. 

Within minutes, they reached the battle. Fen snarled and charged into battle. He wasted no time. The wolf's giant jaws wrapped around a living corpse and tore it apart as if it were a paper doll. Fen left a trail of rotting debris behind him as he made his way towards Ravenia. When he reached her, he gave her a brief tail wag, then lunged onto another corpse. 

As the Dead in the clearing began to fall, Fen made his way further into the desert to take out the ones still coming. It was a massive herd, almost unusually so. He'd seen Dead hoards before, but this one was almost the population of their city, if not more. Fen was a fast worker, and the corpses weren't much of a challenge for his claws and teeth, so it didn't take the wolf long to mow through them. Before he realized it, he was a good mile and a half away from the others. Not that it would have worried him; Fen was more than capable of taking care of himself in the outside world. 

By the time he caught a break in the herd, Fen was covered in gore. His fur was matted with old, dark blood, and his claws were caked with rotted flesh. He had the worst taste in his mouth. Luckily for him, he knew this area well enough to know that there was a water source nearby: a stream. A quick drink wouldn't hurt, and then he could go back and rejoin the others. 

The wolf slunk along, his feet crunching on the dried sticks of the desert floor. He could feel the fight draining his energy; there were just so many of them! When Fen reached the stream, he bent his head over and lapped up some water. He let it wash the blood from his mouth, then spat it back out and gulped up more that was clean. He could easily drink several gallons in one sitting, and was halfway through the process of doing so when his ears caught a soft groan from somewhere to his left. 

Fen's head raised quickly. His eyes searched his surroundings for the source. He expected to see a living corpse shambling towards him, but there was nothing there. The wolf gave a soft growl, his hackles raising as he went to check it out. His nose hovered off the ground as he sniffed. There was someone there, and they didn't smell dead. The wolf followed the scent until the caught sight of the source. It was a man laying near a sage bush. Fen paused, looked around, then cautiously crept towards him. 

The man looked dead. He laid face down in the dirt, his clothes torn and bloody. Fen would have assumed that he was a victim of the herd, if he weren't still mostly intact. He was breathing, but just barely. The wolf approached him, and carefully used his nose to turn the man over onto his back. The man's eyes fluttered open, looked at him, and then shut again. He gave another groan as he tried to roll back over and get up. It occurred to Fen that a giant wolf probably wasn't what the man wanted to see. He gave a soft, short whine. Maybe one of the others could help him get the guy back to the city.

Fen tilted his head back and gave a loud, long howl. The sound was impossible to ignore; his howls could carry for miles. It may even be heard back at the city.