The Infected

A nervous yipping us follows us as we push through the verdant valleys. As we stop to beat back a particularly virulent bush, we see a squat shape emerge from the bracken.

It is a poor little dog, half-decayed by a terrible blight. Green scabs bubble underneath her eyes, and one of her hind legs looks shrivelled, like a lemon peel left in the sun. Still, her tail wags with canine optimism, and she seems intent on joining our rank.

Should we permit the diseased dog to come with us, and so risk catching her blight ourselves? Or should we put her out of her misery and spare her a slow death in the wilds?