Shadowwyn Moor that blackness called night

Technically, he was going to use it both for the pack and himself, he wasn't a selfish guy. Duty and family came first, always, and to the Roman, whoever who lived in Bearclaw Valley was as good as family. They lived together, hunted together, cared for one another, what else would they be other than family? And if one of his packmates were..bleeding to death for example, and he was also bleeding to death, most likely, Raziel would give the goldenrod to his packmate than use it on himself.

"I'm not only using it for myself, I have packmates too," he was tempted to add an annoyed 'God' to the end of the sentence but decided against it. Why waste his breath on strangers who was criticizing him on his use of plants? "Its not like I'm going to use it whenever someone's got a thorn stuck in their pad or if they have scratches," seriously, who did this woman think she was?

"Hey, I've just started actually pursuing this trade. I only have basic knowledge on healing. You could, you know, help me out instead of criticizing me all the way to Tartarus," Raziel said, a small smile touching his lips at those words. He was trying to make peace with this coarse and rude female of a healer, though only those who understood his subtle way of speaking would understand.