Meadowlark Prairie in flanders fields

Witchcraft?! Now that just seemed far-fetched. There were no magical or ecclesiastical connotations to her work. In fact, it was one hundred percent focused on science and physiology, although she supposed she did sometimes try to rehabilitate the mind and spirit too. Raven shrugged again, though, taking no particular issue with Birk's opinion. It was kind of amusing to be introduced to the perspective of an outsider, someone who hadn't been dabbling in medicine all his life. That someone might think her a reckless witch caused a bubble of laughter to lodge in her throat.

"No," she said patiently, "I want to take a double dose before I consider allowing anyone else to ingest them. I'd rather put myself at risk than my entire pack." She licked her lips and said, "You won't have to do that. But I'm from Redhawk Caldera." This time, her gesturing wasn't so arbitrary. She pointed her slim black muzzle at the squat peak in the distance. "We've recently suffered a tragedy. That's part of why I'm doing this," she continued after facing forward again. "These poppies will really help my pack mates cope."