Fairspell Meadow Needles

Lane picked up her medkit and approached the doe-eyed woman carefully. Poor thing! Even though she remained laying on the ground, her tremors were clearly visible. Was it cold, fear, or exhaustion that made her tremble? Probably some combination of the three, if Lane had to guess. 

"Not at all," Lane assured her after she set the supplies down beside her new patient. Lane unwrapped the bundle slowly, so the stranger could get a good look at (and whiff of) the different herbs. "Coltsfoot and marigold," she narrated aloud, separating two kinds of dried leaves from the rest of the supplies. 

"This winter has been rough on the paws, hmm?" Lane wasn't the best at deciphering emotions, but it kind of seemed like her patient might be ashamed of her injury. Lane was sympathetic; she no stranger to shame herself. "My paws looked just like this a few weeks ago.. mine and several of my packmates' too," she reassured the woman. The words my packmates felt odd on Lane's tongue, but it was the easiest way to describe her arrangement with the Glen wolves. 

"So what's your name? Where are you headed?" Lane asked conversationally. The stranger was obviously a traveler, and Lane hoped the wayfarer might tell a little bit of her story. She began chewing up the dried herbs she had selected; the coltsfoot first, then small bits of marigold added slowly.