Blackfeather Woods far away across the field

It was one of the more eventful days in Maegi's young life. So excited she was to see old and new faces that she could not sleep; instead, she wandered through the woods, looking for herbs. She had done a fair job at replenishing her sorely-neglected caches, but there still was a long way to go. And if Damien was looking for trouble. . .

They had to be prepared. Always.

Marigold. She'd seen it used by Hemlock before, on the island. Good for wounds and sores. She'd learned a lot from Hemlock and Reed, and she felt a pang to think of them now. Where were they—still on Undersea, or had they moved on, too? The latter she missed especially. Reed had been one of her very first friends in life, at least of those her age.

She found herself staring at the dark golden clump for a long time, lost in memories, before Maegi finally came to herself again with a small shudder. Stooping, she gently plucked the bunch from the earth, roots dangling, shivering, sending a small shower of earth in their wake. Clutching the bundle carefully, she began to pad to her nearest cache.

She could almost taste the blood upon application—should one of them fall to the enemy, soon.

Peryite, protect us, she whispered fervently, words muffled against the flowers.