Phoenix Maplewood Who do you think you are

Nanook holds herself with the practised air of confidence - careful, but unshaken, by the sharp sting of tension which reels from the broken girl's companions. There was a time she would have fled from such energy; she'd run even as her own mother lay dying, after all, and truthfully, Nanook still fears that one of these times, she will break, and she will turn and start running again.

But tonight, her fears are unfounded. She remembers Scarlett - and she is still strong. 

"What you know will be an asset," she says to the tundrian, but before she can address his further concerns, a noise rises from where the earthen one lays, short and faint in the still night air, yet enough of a voice to steal Nanook's attention toward her. There is something familiar in the stirring, and for a moment, she is rendered silent. When she finally speaks, her voice is soft. "I will help."

Somehow, she manages to pry her eyes away, and her heart is filled with emotion: deep anger, for whomever did this to the girl, and great compassion. "I will help," she repeats, firmer now, set in her resolve. "You," she jerks a nod toward the paler guardian, whose voice had just lifted, pressing to help. "Dig up the snow, look for moss, keep watch. If her assailant returns, or any predator - or if she grows worse, call us back. We will be near. We'll need what you find to dress her once we've cleansed the wound of any dirt or infection."

Nanook understands his want to help, his desire to come with her, but he will serve his companion much better here. She doesn't know these wolves beyond the small moment she's shared with them now, but she senses between the pale guardian and the fallen girl a connection; a love, and a mutual care - and this makes her all the more certain that he is the one who needs to stay.

Resolved in her command, Nanook returns her focus to the tundrian, "Yarrow. We're looking for a plant with fern-like leaves, very delicate. White flowers that group in large, dense clusters. And their scent is strong, very aromatic. Hard to miss, even if you're not looking. Come," and she takes a step back, though her attention still lingers on the tundrian, "They grow in open soil, thin, sandy. Fields, waste lands. I know where to look."

And she retreats into the shadows - West, in the direction she came. She knows these lands; after all, they had once been home to her, three times over. The plains around Silver Moraine are be the first place they'll look, and she slips easily into the trek towards them. She is certain the tundrian healer will follow - she doesn't feel the need to look over her shoulder to check if he will - but she looks anyway - hoping she will only see the tundrian, praying the pale guardian will see his need to stay.

IIII have no idea what I'm dooooiing~ :D