Herbalists' Cache what you need is a special touch

*makes handwavey gestures at sobeille’s whack af timeline* for @Etienne dated shortly after her meeting with Druid <3

she threaded her way through a serene valley, noticing the sky overhead had darkened.

the woman from before remained at the forefront of her thoughts. sobeille could not get the scent on her pelt out of her mind; it was sickly with a strange spice to it. musty but lively but distinctly the odor of the dead.

she stopped to drink water at a standing pond, ears tuned in to the lazy chorus of summer.

Etienne tried not to venture far from @Suzu. But he was trying to save @Druids children. He had told his sister of what had transpired. Hoping she was not disgusted by him giving Druid her means of death.

Her children were all alone. @Heda had left. He had been sure to say exactly what he thought of the former woman he had loved like family. She was bitter and selfish and he hated her for it. And yet still part of him loved her and couldn't condemn her. Life sometimes made you bitter.

And he searched for Anselm because he refused to believe the man would leave his children. Refused.

It was with surprise he came across Sobeiile and he blinked. Had he wondered too far. He looked to the sky and then back the way he had come with a frown. No Suzu was only an hour or so away from him.

Sobeille?

Tags for reference

drinking from the bank, sobeille watched as swamp-darners flew across the surface. their tireless wings did graceful arcs — she would have watched them forever if she hadn’t heard something behind her.

she rose, fastening her gaze towards the thicket where etienne’s form materialized. the wariness of her posture softened, but sobeille kept her distance. eti. it was as warm a greeting as she was able to muster. dere be a very sick woman south of us. did you smell ‘er?

Etienne was not a fan of the swampier areas. They always made him feel as if his fur was sticking to itself. And there was a heaviness in the air. It just, he didn't like it. He preferred open ocean best of all, but he'd take a river too.

He blinked and blanched a softly whispered. Druid.

he was poised as if to run, but stoppped and shook his head. I do not smell 'er. But I may know dey wolf. You stay way from 'er.

he spoke a word - or a name - sobeille did not quite hear.

what be wrong wit’ ‘er? sobeille lodged the question with a somber cant of her yellow gaze, sniffing the air for good measure as if the sickly woman would emerge any moment.

Etienne sniffed the air. As if by doing so he might smell Druid. But all he smelled was the wetlands and dirt. And sobeille herself and his scent. More fishy now than before.

A tilt of an ear. 'er 'as dey brain rot, rabies. No cure for dat. You get bit and dat be it.

he didn't add that he had given Druid poison so she wouldn't bite anyone. That he told her to be careful as she could.

you get bit and dat be it.

the finality of this statement thrilled sobeille, her blood fanning to life with steady pulses.

if only she could harness such power — she wondered how this disease worked, what part of the body it addressed first as it set in, which cells became the first victims, which cells the last — all the while the disease worked to unknot and dismantle every part of you until the brain was rotted and the eyes rolled up into the skull unseeing.

but something else bothered her too — she pushed aside the unpleasant truth, the memory of druid dashing towards her with teeth bared.

are dere many diseases like dat?

Etienne could not voice of what he knew of rabies. He didn't know all of it of course, but from what he had gleaned. IT was a horrific way to die. And in a sense the poison was a kindness he had given. Even if it had gone against all that he believed in. And yet it felt important that he do such a thing.

Etienne shook his head. Not like dat. Dat one makes you violent and paranoid and scared. It makes you 'ate dey water. Dere be otter diseases dat be 'urtin' your brain, but not like dat. Non.

He shuddered. it is an awful way to die.

though he may not have intended it as such, sobeille found herself respond to etienne’s statement with a state of excitable curiosity.

it begged the question: is dere any good way to die?

in sobeille’s estimation the answer was no. she’d watched many things die, across countless orders. fish died horrifically when brought to the surface. a bug’s legs squirmed mindlessly and desperately as it was firmly squashed beneath a paw. and wolves —

she smiled inwardly, for that was her own delightful secret to revisit time and time again. what other diseases hurt your brain?

A blink of surprise in those golden eyes of his. He was unsure what to say at first. he slowly mulled on it. He supposed well it depended.

I tink dat be depenin' on oo you be talkin' bout. And 'ow dey be tinkin. Cause I tink to go to sleep after you been livin' many years surrounded by family and friends. I tink dat be a good way to die. Just slip off into sleep and never wake up. Some wolves may tink it be a good way to die to protect dey families like our granme's. Some soldiers tink it be good to die in battle and bloodshed. It all be dependin on dey wolf you be talkin bout.

He hummed and then hmmm. Dat be a hard question, because dere be lots we don't know. But some wolves brains start to go wrong as dey be agin. Some wolves are born wit' dey brains wrong. Dey be slower at tings or deir brains just not be working at all. Dere be diseases of dey brain you can get from certain plants. And even some animals can make your brain diseased.

for a time silence spread between them. sobeille did not mind this pause in conversation - it allowed her to inspect Etienne fully and without reservation.

at last he spoke, sharing his perspective that the best mode of death seemed to depend on who was dying. sobeille found delight in this hypothetical - and she liked how etienne often prompted her to think outside of the confines of her own perspective.

something he said made her pause; some wolves were born with their brain all wrong. she mulled over this in silence. eti, do you t’ink my brain be wrong?

Etienne didn't know exactly how to answer all the questions SObeille brought to him. But he did try and help. She was more savage than he was. In many ways, but so was his auntie and his granme. So he saw nothing wrong with his cousin's ways.

He gave a soft little gasp. Of course not. I never be tinkin' dat. You may tink different dan otters, but dere be nothin' wrong wit' dat.

He didn't know her full range of thoughts. And as such saw nothing wrong with them. She was a little rougher around the edges. But not murderous or cruel.

it would be easy then, to let it all out. to show etienne he only knew a side of her — like how the hideous dark brown of a slimy oyster’s shell revealed the beautiful nacre within. only in sobeille’s case it was reversed. the external vision was of something perfectly functional, housing something hideous within.

she was taken with how strong his initial reaction was. and for once, a rare smile played on her features - but it was sad, and ephemeral. oh eti, you be seein’ de bes’ in everyone. and it was true. ’ow do you t’ink like dat so easily? how did it come so naturally to him when she felt like a duck drowning in water?

Etienne knew that everyone had hidden depths. Even he himself could be scathing and cruel. The words that he spoke sometimes in anger. They were barbed and found their mark more often than not. But he tried not to be.

Etienne shrugged a sinewy shoulder. I do not be knowin'. I just 'ave always been dis way. I see someone and I tink, 'ow can I 'elp. Wut road did dey travel to get to w'ere dey be. And usually anger or sadness or any emotion really. Is a call out for 'elp, non? W'en you are sad you seek 'elp, w'en you are angry you are usually 'urt. W'en you are 'appy you seek out to give it back.

etienne framed the world in emotions. it was as if he were an artist and each emotion the colorful streak of a brush — the way he depicted his feelings conjured to mind a beautiful picture sobeille could never hope to imitate.

most times, she didn’t know how to feel. it was easy when it was just her. but when she was placed next to another wolf, it only made the gap in her emotions all the more stark. even talking to chani, sobeille had realized — as she had always known — that something in her was missing.

i see. sobeille murmured, unwilling to be any more vulnerable. she had already endangered herself by being so exposed — even to someone that was her blood like etienne. no; it was better that her kin never knew the sobeille inside.

i will see you at de hunt, ya? she changed the subject now, hearing val’s howl somewhere in the distance. you an’ suzu be comin’?

Etienne did not know a world without emotions. There was a different world he knew. One that was framed by logic and science. One that many chose, but not him.

He knew wolves that seemed to have no emotions. But usually they felt more than anyone. They were just terrible at showing it. And because they could not it came out in darkness.

A soft laugh then. Golden eyes dancing. Suzu not be walkin' dat far. 'Er say No Eti too far! But 'er must take care of 'er babies too. You should come see dem. 2 boys and 2 girls. But I will be dere wit' dey 'ealers.

in time, maybe etienne’s good humor would rub off on sobeille. she was still young enough to be malleable, though the trajectory of her life had long been set by that early afternoon spent with mahleah in the fellwood.

she sniffed. oh, dat be disappointing. couldnt suzu just walk? was it really that hard? sobeille had no idea how difficult child raising was. okei. i t’ink i will be dere wit’ maman an’ tante, mebbe val and de kids. an’ mebbe me an’ chani come visit you soon, ya?

ostensibly, to visit her newest cousins — but sobeille also wanted to see etienne’s new homeland.

fade w ur post? <3we can make a new one for the hunt!

Etienne did not hope that others would be like him. For he often took all the abuse and lived with it. HE did not argue did not cry. He simply gave what he could and took nothing in return. And it was exhausting. He loved himself, but he did not wish his personality on anyone else at times.

I will see you dere.

Etienne would lean forward to give her a soft nudge and then turn back the way he had come. Anxious and fearful. And sad.

sobeille found herself surprised to be touched. it was a strange sensation, and it opened up a pathway to a language she had little experience in.

she waved etienne off, rounding her shoulder which now felt every stir of the breeze, as if etienne’s light touch had brought its own life to the patch of skin there. see you dere. sobeille called back, nursing her thoughts as she made for home in troubled silence.