Duskfire Glacier Failures are inevitable [M]

Though she hadn't been specifically called for, to hear an emergency cry for help ring out over the Glacier sent the medicine woman deeper into the Caverns (where she'd been tending some herbs that grew within) to the apothecary den where she and Iana -- and now, possibly Rye and Lane -- had taken to storing a communal stock of medicines. Much as Lane had faltered, wondering what to grab and take with her, the golden she-dog swayed on her feathered paws as she examined the pharmacopeia they'd arranged since claiming the territory. An anxious whine escaped her before the shaman simply snatched up a rabbit hide with a few basic healer's herbs in them, whirling as she rushed to answer Tzila's howl with the bundle clasped in her jaws.

She wasn't sure what to expect upon arriving but the sight of a bloody Rye collapsed in the bottom of the shallow pit with the fretful she-wolves descending to work on the hawk-eyed male's injuries made the cur's heart leap into her throat -- nearly making her drop the pelt-wrapped herbs in her shock. Something stung at her throat and the backs of her aquamarine optics -- fear or concern for the kind he-wolf who had become her friend -- but she blinked it away in an effort to remain calm.

Figuring she would only overcrowd the others in the hole, Imaq remained where she was on the lip of the opening -- placing the medicines at her paws before shifting on them in nervous agitation. "What Lane need? How Imaq can help Rye?" She asked of the other Caregiver -- albeit softly, not wanting to draw the pale agouti's attention away from her patient.