Blackfeather Woods Let my eyes be the rhythm

quick phone post; so so so sorry for the wait

 

they moved through the dark wood. relmyna said nothing, only listened to the words spoken by the dark brother and the fierce guardian who had returned, scarred by the mountain wolves.
a sudden sense of weariness overtook the woman. to be blackfeather was to be marked, and it had caused her great pain already. arrival at her medicine den brought the listener away from flicker and wintersbane; she returned with a small bundle of comfrey.
her stores were low, and so relmyna must go out into the world and draw more. but weakness had become her lot; she dared not hazard a trip in the icy threat of full winter.
as the others spoke, she chewed the root to a gummy paste and then, if flicker allowed, began to smooth it across the other’s wounds. it would draw the edges together, bind them fast, and the listener’s tongue worked to clear the blood as she laid the medicine.