Blackfeather Woods Not much time to lose

Potema, through what was almost literally a lifetime of practice, tentatively clasped each herb in her maw, placing each their rightful cubby before dipping down to find the next. She was meticulous with her organization, making sure nothing was out of place. Some of the herbs were sundried, their power locked in their shriveled leaf to keep them through the winter. She wondered if freezing them would produce a similar result.

Her musing paused as a chuff caught her attention. It was deeper than Seff's, which told her that it was an adult and not an inquisitive pup. She put the herb in its place, then turned to the voice, which belonged to Althaia. Hello, She said softly, turning to face her. Is something wrong?