Wild Berry Meadow What are you running from, and may I interfere

She should have been more watchful, observant of his presence. The cough that he had acquired had not been entirely unnoticed but what could she do besides be mindful? The cold killed plants if the earth's own wreckage had not. Most healers would have a stash for the colder months. She had not had the pleasure. So what did she do? Stare from distances before pulling away to bathe in her own self-pity that she was so useless.

She could not be so cooped up forever. If she could not physically heal him, she should at the very least make sure to not emotionally neglect him. The budding of whatever they had was certainly still tender...especially after where they had left off.

There he was. Crumpled onto the earth under some trees. She had missed whatever coughing fit he had endured moments ago. Eastwood? Her voice was a soft whisper.