Broken Boulder i'll pay my weight in blood to feel my nerves wake up

He followed Alarian to his den, keeping close in case the boy decided to collapse again. It was an agonizingly slow journey there, but it ended eventually, and the pot of gold was a haphazard assortment of greenery. Alarian seemed to find the berries quickly, though, and asked him about the dosage. Zamael shrugged; he was only an (amateur) botanist, not a medic, but you couldn't really fuck up something as innocuous as a belly cure.

"Just a couple," Zamael said, pulling three away from the stems and rolling them toward Alarian. "You could barely get a bite or two of prey down, earlier; your stomach won't handle more than this right now." As his brother lapped up the berries and began to lay down, he cast a critical eye over the medicine stash, head pounding a little at their disarray.

"Let me organize this for you, some time," he said quietly, already beginning to shuffle things around. "No offense, but this is kind of a nightmare. I know you've had stuff on your plate," he added, tone softening as he turned to look at Alarian, dandelion stems hanging limply from his mouth. "Let me help you."