Ouroboros Spine And yet the menace of the years

He slipped away from the lake and dipped into a covering of deciduous trees. He'd scouted this area, making himself accustomed with the lands and was starting to get a better idea of which parts could offer him what he needed when he'd need it. Wandering through the undergrowth, his tipped his head upward, scenting the air as he sought out of leaf of certain shape. There it was. Leaning on the trunk, he reached into the lower bows and wrestled a few of them free. This would do.

Leaves in mouth, Kero chewed on them while he walked, grinding them down into something a little more useful than they were on their own. Mixed with his own saliva, the blend of leaf watered down into something of a salve as he wandered back upon the scene.

Tonravik moved out of the water, but other than that they were much in the same place as when he'd left them. He came up alongside their alpha and balanced upon three paws so he might lift one. Kero transferred the leafy mixture to his lifted arm. He'd never been more happy to rid himself of that plant taste. He particularly loathed the taste of green. 

"If you'd just turn your head a bit," he said to their swamp-monster of a queen, "I'll apply this to your ear and we'll be done." It was perhaps, more words than were needed, but there was something about this particular occupation that held a certain level of mystery. Explaining this particular form of witchcraftery often helped.