Otter Creek be Bob Ross and paint me a picture

wintersbane watches as the male reacts to him drawing nearer, though as he speaks he clarifies that he has a pain in his head, looking to him with a suffering peach colored gaze. a secondary glimpse is given as he contemplates. he does, in fact, know something he could give the man to ease the pain. he considered the mushrooms he'd ingested ( out of curiosity but not a mistake he'd make again ) but the high they brought with them might only serve to aggravate the man's headache instead of alleviating it. he knows that poppy seeds work as a pain reliever but they would be have to administered in a very small dose. too much and the risk would run of getting the loner hooked on them.

"yes," the tundrian mouths in the way he'd learned that the enchanting listener spoke. he borrows her silent way of communicating now in the hopes that he might not be such a burden upon the other male's aches. wintersbane desires to ask why his head is hurting but considers that the loner might not have an answer. a possible concussion? temporary ( or permanent )memory loss? "i'll be right back." wintersbane mouths to the man before he turns and heads back to the woods knowing that he's seen poppy seeds in a medicinal cache.

wintersbane returns not too longer afterwords to where he's left the man and lays the piece of tree bark down with a poppy blossom on it and noses the bark towards the loner. "poppy will help with the pain," he takes a few steps back not wanting to be overly invasive for both of their sakes. "what's your name?" it was strange to be the first one to ask that; usually he was the one that was always on the receiving end of that particular question. wintersbane was using it to judge just how confused the loner was and to try to come to a diagnosis of if it was a concussion or memory loss of some sort.