Lost Creek Hollow ≡ Get Stoned

Evien watched the other boy in amusement and let him have his time to recover from the incident. It must have been a traumatic event - Evien remembered when he'd tried to eat one, too, the first time. His dad had scolded him through laughter and helped him wash the fuzz out of his mouth. 

"Cattails," he said, pawing at one of the brown bulbs at the end of the stems. "We had a lot of them, where I grew up." Back in the marshes around the rivers. He missed it, sometimes. "The fluffy stuff in these bulbs is good for soaking up blood and helping pack wounds."

His gaze flicked up toward the boy and he nodded his head. "Yeah, I am. For a pack down southwest of here," he told him, ears angling forward. "Are you?" Maybe in training, at least.