Jade Fern Grove did you ever see such a sight in your life

He was, perhaps, obsessed now, in a way he had not been before. He had resigned to never taking another trade, feeling that he was incapable of anything but what he had been born with, his preternatural healing know how. When he was awake, he combed for plants, and in this way also started to learn the territory anew. It was an amalgamation of scent, sound, and touch now. Landmarks were not prominent things for the eyes to hold, they were subtleties: a specific patch of herbs, the holes in the bark of a tree drilled by woodpeckers, and the choir of the animals that occupied specific niches within their home. He was learning, he was habituating. It was, as said before, the resilience of youth, but also the will of the wild animal to survive.

He needed a den. Not in which to sleep so much, but a secure, dry place to store his herbs. He remembered brushing past a rock ledge down by the stream, and sought it out on this morning. His paws roamed a path left by his packmates, he knew it by the scent left on it, and by the smoothness of ground that had been trodden. Perhaps this ledge held a small cave. He made his way along the path, his steps slow and purposeful. He paused every so often to listen, and to assure himself that he was where he believed himself to be.