Blackfeather Woods Se gīda gō se jelmāzma

it was burning withing her that she ask damien what he was planning, for as he described each plant he needed, her fear grew. but she said nothing, merely moved through her stores, gathering what the dark prince required. the blooms required were unsafe enough to warrant being stored apart from one another, each upon its own wide leaf. long-dried, their edges trembled as the priestess carefully drew them from the darkness and lay them at damien's paws.
in the center of four leaves, nightshade, witch's hat, jimsonweed, and a wide, curled sedgegrass blade of tiny black seeds. relmyna pointed each out to damien in turn, seeking his face to see that he understood, and then turned. tucked into a nearby rock crevasse, a rabbitskin she had placed there one long moon ago. ragged now, it nevertheless would serve their purposes.
gingerly she picked up each leaf by its brittle stem and lay them in a gentle stack upon the skin. a quick nosing of her muzzle, and a small grey-furred packet was prepared for damien to carry away.
careful, her gaze warned somberly.