Whitefish River The white wind calls

noo i love it

She gave a soft chuckle. As is every morning. She wouldn't have it any other way, though; she loved having a pack and a family to care for. 

She followed his gaze to her herbs and shrugged. I certainly hope so. I don't want to run out of anything this year. Worry seeped into her features at just the thought but was quickly replaced with a grateful smile as Emrik promised to help her search for more. Those were her favorite herb gathering trips; they could spend time together and talk, and she could explain the plants to him. I would love that, she offered softly. 

She smiled and began to lead them away from the den, shrugging a bit when he asked about Orlaith. She is mostly okay, just bruised and sore. A few scrapes that I've been keeping an eye on, but I think she'll heal fine. She hoped so anyway. 

She brushed against his side and raised an eyebrow. Do you really want to hear about my morning or are you trying to avoid talking about whatever is bothering you? she asked him. She wouldn't normally push him to talk about something before he was ready, but she couldn't stop thinking about him pacing and anxious, and she wanted to soothe whatever stress he was feeling.