potholing

The larger wolf mirrored her initial reaction to company, but eased off as soon as Bazi did. Her chuckle was low and motherly, the kind of sound that warmed the cockles of the yearling's heart and brought back memories of the two maternal aunts that weren't insane.

"It'll peter out; a few individuals have clashed about hunting grounds. Nobody will care in the spring," Bazi explained, lulled into sharing openly by Blue Willow's gentle countenance. She took another step forward to get a better look at the other wolf, certain that her own attitude and diminutive stature would convince the healer that she wasn't a threat. What kind of herbs? Can you teach me something?" Bazi was a natural scout and 'talker', whatever that would amount to, but had never explored the fundamentals of healing, much less seen it raised to an art as it was here.