Larksong Grotto Arie

Nova was happy to help, and the woman introduced herself as Jhala, the Grant Vicar. Recognizing the title as one of great importance from what little Phares had taught her, the golden elder bowed her head with a smile.  
                "It's an honor to help the Grand Vicar. Ill be right back, stay here!" 
The elder trotted off, and thankfully now that things were back to green again, she found a clump of marigold easily. The harder part was finding cobwebs, but while she looked for a hollow log or something she chewed the marigold into a pulp. Eventually, she caught sight of a tree, still standing, but split in the center and hollow inside. She only had to stick a leg inside and twirl it around before the cream paw was tightly wound in the white webs. Limping back to Jhala, she spat the marigold onto the wound and packed it in with gentle, slight touches from her blunt nails. She was careful not to dirty the webs or stick it in the pulp before slipping the chunk of web from her paw and plastering it right on the shoulder. 
                                    "There, let that marigold dry, and the web wont move. It'll keep out infection, but it'd be wise to take it off in two days or so. Keep it clean, all that basic wound care stuff I'm sure you know. "
With a smile, Nova backed away to look fondly at her handiwork. Her face turned to the side, as if she were going to say something to something next to her, but when her spectral eyes fell upon empty space, her heart ached. Grace was not there, nor would she ever be, not within the Grotto.