Herbalists' Cache nuvujak ╫

set after kigi & kuku find lote!

"sayaitchuk." her voice was hushed. it was words for the ears of @Sialuk.

she and her daughter had brought skins to this place. there were many herbs here, even if most of them were banked or bulbs beneath the ground. kukutux dug in a swift quiet. "it is a blessing she came back to moonglow. i will ask the healers of duskfire to help us also."

this can just be a cameo unless y’all want to play out the healing/caregiver related part :) (also @Muttn @Sabah @Suledin pped the puppers a bit, lmk if I should remove this or edit)

the dove rested where moonwoman had indicated, only too eager to lay down her aching bones and the firebrand of her leg. she was no healer, not yet, but even aiwë knew that the bear’s claw marks had festered. the corruption crept in her veins and set her feverish limbs to quivering as she hunkered upon the cool snow — a balm and a curse. 

wilwarin still clung close, silent in her place against lótë’s ribs. it seemed she was scared to leave that safe harbor against her heartbeat, where she had traveled tucked close by the cloudberry’s side. the doe offered a rasp to her head in comfort but could not keep her gaze from roaming, searching. 

when it found her children, a soft and broken noise escaped her, tail beating against the earth in spite of how it ignited her haunch with fresh kindling. 

they crowded close, lótë drawing them impossibly near as her head bowed and dipped to embrace the fledglings — her joy tinged with despair to see how they had grown, though not overwhelmed. apologies and adorations whispered between them, the mother allowed a few tears to escape within the hushed bubble of their reunion. 

but she would not allow her smile to dim. they could not see how scared she had been, how scared she still was, lest her own fear infect them with doubt. 

mummy.
the word rushed out in a hushed whisper. though his ever stoic expression revealed nothing but glistening eyes, his chest filled with relief upon the sight of his dear mother.
he was the first to rush to her, to take in her long-overdue affections with a hint of a smile.
but lómion’s senses were always acute. he took notice of her festering wounds even through his wave of relief, and pulled away to stare at them
what is that, mummy? he asked with child-like curiosity. they weren’t there before.

when kukutux returned, it was to settle at the side of her husband's wife. she smiled into the soft and beautiful features, now flushed with pain. 

"you will sleep now, lótë." she offered her sister three black seeds upon a leaf. "i will bring your children to my hearth to be given meat. they will share dreams with their sisters." the cloudberry woman must set her mind to healing now.

kukutux chewed three poultices from the herbs she had brought.

as the woman slept, she would work: she would break upon the fetid crusts upon the wounds and wash them with the acidic draught of birchbark. the wounds would be packed with goldenthread and a soft mixture of tiny mosses. cobwebs and comfrey for the top of each, to hold the skin together.

the duck sang as she worked, and she did not keep lótë's children from watching. they would see that their mother slept and breathed before kukutux took them away for a meal. she would not hide this from them. it was the shared experience of their hearth. and perhaps it might move one or more of the four toward a want to know healing as well.