Fairspell Meadow four letter word for the feeling you were born into

Jakoul presented her injured leg, and Maegi gritted her teeth, feeling the echo of the Morta's pain in her own slowly-healing forelimb. Damn, she whispered, eyes drifting to meet the other's gaze. I will be back. I'll find you something for the pain. . .and maybe a bite to eat, as well.

When she returned, she did so with a pitiful excuse for a hare, accompanied by one of the last of her poppy stash. The red flower was wilting, but the seeds were still intact; Maegi set both of these down beside Jakoul and nosed the kill closer, her own mouth watering at the smell.

Eat, she murmured, beginning to work the seeds away from the flower. Just one. . .no, maybe two. For me. And two for her, and maybe— NO! Maegi cursed herself inwardly as she let slip three seeds over her tongue, down her throat. She flung the flower away with some violence and rested back down on her belly instead, watching Jakoul with a concerned stare.

She had many questions, but they could all wait until later. Food, medicine and rest were most important right now.