Blackfeather Woods Getting back to myself

Be better. Complaining.

A soft frown put a crinkle in her features as she observed the Merei carefully. Physically she looked well, no noticeable injuries or the scent of a sickness on the surface. Jakoul was not as aware of the conditions that laid under the surface — of the mind. Nor was she exactly skilled enough to go about treating them.

Be well. She rumbled softly as the topic shifted to that of an injured child. Admittedly the Morta was not the most keen on watching the children, leaving them to their mothers or better-fit caretakers. She doubted the child would be left to wither though. Blackfeathers were better than that, no?

Her head canted ever so slightly, motioning for Moonshadow to fall in line with her steps. I help? The words were soft as she wondered if her offer would come across well enough. What could be better? What complaints might their Merei have?