Heron Lake Plateau If you can use a doorknob

Between Ceara, Towhee, Roz, Screech, and Niamh, Raven had had her hands very full these past couple of weeks. It was amusing, in a grim sort of way, how everyone seemed to go and get themselves hurt at the same time. Screech was her biggest concern. At this point, the ball was entirely in his court. There was nothing she could do as a healer that could shorten the duration of his coma or make it more likely that he might wake up. The best she could do -- and she had been doing it -- was try to keep water in him. Even that was a nearly impossible task.

She decided to take a break from things and spend some time gathering some fresh plants and herbs for her medicine stash. She'd burned up quite a bit of it treating everyone's various wounds, and there was a definite need for restocking now. She was on her way to one of her favored spots for finding plants, out near the thicket, when she spotted the stocky figure of her mate coming toward her. She noticed right away that something wasn't right, though. He was hobbling along, clearly in pain, dragging the limp corpse of a young deer in his jaws. Worry immediately gripped her heart as she rushed to meet him, and before she said the first word her eyes were already looking over him, seeking out injuries. "Qui, what happened?"