Herbalists' Cache fifteen cans of spray paint in a chemical swirl

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Derg regarded the woman, relaxing onto his haunches. She looked familiar, though he couldn't place her features with a situation. Either way, she was soft spoken and -- her voice. He knew that voice. His brows furrowed in concentration, thinking hard. It'd been a while since the fertility festival and, with the events that followed the high spirited night, it was no wonder he couldn't remember her properly. 

"No, ma'am. I was only looking for a mild painkiller for my ward. It is good to see someone enjoying the spring." He offered her a smile, charming and relaxed. It was odd for him to be so when he was so close to the place of Keen's attack. His curiosity finally got the better of him -- he needed to know where he'd seen this wolf before. "I feel like I know you. Perhaps we have crossed paths before?" His head tilted, showing the extent of his curiosity.

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