Redhawk Caldera the road to hell is paved with good intentions

I'm tagging those who expressed interest in this plot but literally anyone's welcome to come play and develop some bad habits. @Elwood @Fox @Liffey @Whip :)

When she came down from her high, Raven carefully assessed herself, noting no negative side effects either physically or mentally. She then promptly took a second, larger dose and retreated to the edge of the field. Hours later, she decided she had found some sort of miracle drug. These flowers—they must be poppies, she deduced from her mental info bank—prompted feelings of inner peace and joy so deep it was nearly overwhelming, seemingly without any ill effect. It was exactly the sort of thing her pack mates needed right now.

She spent the afternoon carefully crumbling as many of the red petals into dust as she could manage, then using a sheaf of wet bark—the powder stuck to it—to transport it back to the caldera. Raven repeated this process three or four times, storing the fine red dust in a crude stone basin inside the badger den. She could always return for more later, supposing the rest of the decaying poppies didn't blow away with the wind. By the time she was done, Raven calculated that she had about a hundred small doses to mete out to the pack, two hundred if she cut the doses in half to play it safe, which was the plan.

With everything appropriately stored, Raven howled for her mother first and foremost. Before she started peddling strange and mood-altering substances to the entire pack, the yearling she-wolf wanted her mother's express permission.