Shadowwyn Moor that blackness called night

She sighed. Every wolf. Every wolf was this way. Dabbling in healing without the proper instruction or schooling to go with it. Was there no wolf in these lands they could turn to for information on this subject? If there was, she had yet to find them and could only hope they were more patient of an instructor than she. She'd lost too much breath with explanations as of late.

"Goldenrod is best reserved for extreme cases only. It works wonders, but is also very easy to develop allergies towards. Use it too often, and you'll be fighting off an allergic reaction on top of whatever you were treating in the first place. Toothache? Fine, chew it's petals, but no more. Open wounds? Only if it's the only thing left in your stores and it's an absolute emergency."

She was adamant in this. This first rule of healing was "do no harm" and unfortunately too many inexperienced wolves did exactly that because of their inexperience. "What exactly are you trying to accomplish?" she asked, wondering why he was collecting such an herb to begin with. "What ailment are you trying to treat?"