Dragoncrest Cliffs i tell you someone will remember us

haunt asked for something that erzulie had never done and had never meant to do.
and yet she saw the rawness and the agony and the begging in the pupil that reflected her own tearstained face.
rosalyn was not here to ask, and the crush of haunt's suffering began to strangle her resolve.
erzulie pulled away and began to rummage gently until she held the careful scrapings of a black lichen she had been using to help with sleep and with the hopeful mending of haunt's limbs.
for a long while she only stared at the offering, and then slowly back toward haunt.
was this not her responsibility as a healer? her limbs felt frozen.
as if beyond her control, the obsidian's paws numbly organized the remainder into five small piles.
she held the first to haunt's mouth, followed by a press of the moss-sponge. "drink." the word cracked, and she picked up the second dose, offering it in the same way.
five swallows. five more for water.
one application of this lichen would bring a deep sleep. five would ensure haunt would not wake again.
hot tears scorched her own mouth.