Herbalists' Cache Let It Go

Citali looked at her. She couldn't be serious could she? "You would not be." She stared, pondering her next words before a twisted smile crossed her lips. "Want to know what we call a wolf with three legs in the medical community?" A beat. "Dead." They were resource hogs. Required a pack. Required a lot of attention. Slow. Couldn't hunt for themselves. All useless things for survival. Survive an amputation and a wolf was lucky... they just also happened to fly straight towards the direction of requiring way more care than they were worth. Citali was more in favor of cutting losses than limbs.

Her mind was stubborn on that topic. Just as she was on the topic of leadership. It was Nochtli's comment that sobered her for half second before a permanent frown etched itself across her face. "I know," she said, her ears flattening upon her head as she tried not to think of it. It seemed a vast majority of the women in these parts were quick to submit to the will of a male. They should have been quicker to beat that will out of him. "It's a disease."

She shivered, not wanting to think about it even though she knew they must. It was still the height of summer, but with each passing day they moved closer towards fall and after that their chances of survival would dwindle without the added support of a pack. "There has to be some group somewhere led by a female in these wilds. There are only two genders. There's bound to be an independent female out there somewhere. "