Moonspear Things Are Better If I Stay

Anyone welcome! Scooting this forward to avoid timeline issues! We'll say she's been a little scarce since her and Judas had their exchange.

To say she hadn't wished to go with Judas would be a complete lie. She worried for him, and she worried for others. Oddly, despite the scabbed-over wound on her face she hadn't feared for herself. She had sobbed the night away in her den, then slept restlessly through the early morning. She worried that she should have gone after him, should have joined him. Yet, she felt she was needed here. Judas was the only other wolf who knew herbology. She couldn't abandon the wolves who had given her a home.

So she had stayed. Perhaps it was better this way, safer. Perhaps alone Judas could find out how to control the voice. Despite staying, and despite her intentions to tell Charon and Amekaze that Judas had come for help...she found herself avoiding the pack. She kept near her den and the herb cache, away from where the other's would roam. Her face was slowly healing, the skin scabbing over and knitting back together. Occasionally she'd go to rip into a kill, or pull the muscles of her face a certain way and tear the wound again. Though she was treating it daily, she knew she would scar.

On this day she rose from her den in was late afternoon, the evening would soon be nipping at the heels of the horizon. She felt weary. Still her mind was worried for Judas, wondering about him. Where had he gone? Where would he go? She assured herself that this was the answer they both needed, and the feelings that had been brewing in her chest for Judas before all this were not important. Her own worry too must be pushed aside for the greater good of Judas, and the pack.

She made her daily trip to the cache and carried her needed supplies with her to the nearest stream. Once there she first dipped her muzzle in, whimpering at the sting of the cold water on her wound. She wanted to wet the scabs, but not take them off. She knew they were a layer between her body and infection, but the scabs too could keep out her medicine. So she dipped her muzzle, then rose for breath, then dipped it again. She used her tongue to feel the wound, and when the scabs felt less stiff, she turned for her supplies. 

She rose and shook, sending water flying, before heading back to her herbs. She'd saved herself the trouble of struggling with chervile root and instead chosen marigold leaves. Thankfully the pain had died to only an occasional thing, typically when she pulled at the wound or rubbed it in the night. It did not bleed anymore either, which she thought was a good sign too.

She bent to grab the marigold and began to chew, wincing now at the bitter taste. Sadly, none of these herbs would heal her heartache and worry for her friend. Time, it seemed, was also proving to simply make her worry more. She thought eventually she would make her peace with it, but soon she'd need to tell Charon and Amekaze. Would they be angry she had waited so long? She hoped not. It wasn't truly out of deception, but embarassment for her own emotions. At first she had cried often, and did not want to face her leaders in such a state. Too, she had hoped her wound would heal some.