Hushed Willows In a long black veil she cries over my bones.

Grace watched Tavi inspect the leaves, and her confusion was evident. At first, she thought the stormy mother would refuse them with another snip at her. Imagine the russet yearlings surprise when a look of guilt, maybe sympathy, came over Octavias features. Even more rattling, the alpha actually asked for help: sort of. Grace straightened herself a little bit and took a few tentative steps forward with a warm, shy smile spreading across her muzzle. She could tell it wasn't easy, but Tavi was trying. Honestly, if she just didn't hurt the yearling, Grace could deal with this. 
      "You gotta eat em."
At once, she thought about the taste. maybe she should have gotten something to sweeten it up? The faded black female tried going over in her head what was in the herb den, but couldn't remember anything.
               "It won't taste good, but it should give you some extra milk for the little one. If you want, I can track down honey, or maybe mint."