Lion Head Mesa Bitter sweet honey

I forgot to tag you! @Ingram II

Sometimes she wished she could change. That wasn't too old to change her ways, that she could be gentler, a different version of herself. That she could cry over the dead and weep for those deserving of it. But Slate was too old to change, too set in her ways, she was not easy to persuade to become someone different. The events of Akashingo's palace where she had humanely killed one of their own was still rooted deep within her. Akashingo had left the poor woman to suffer, Slate had ended that suffering cause no one else was strong enough to do it.

It had to be her.

Slate had rearranged all of her items from her pouch, found a safe spot within the camp of Ursus to place her items without them being trembled. She had left them there to go on a hunt. A hunt for plants. She wasn't searching for any in particular, but just useful plants to keep her mind occupied. Her worries were with the dead female and Slate had never believed in the afterlife or any sort of religious setting, she was not raised with it. She did not believe the female was better off this way or that she was better now. She was dead. Gone to never return to the life she had been living. It was life, but a harsh reality.

She had taken another wolf's life.

She searched through Akashingo where she was permitted to wander, she sniffed the different plants carefully, examined them and picked them up one by one in her jaws whenever she found something of use. Flowers, herbs anything that hadn't withered and died yet. Autumn was here after all, she couldn't deny the chill of the air, nor that many plants were disappearing. Her extensive knowledge of plants was sometimes the only reason she found herself in the predicaments she were in. Giving life, giving herself into the study and taking a life. It was part of her job. Whatever she liked it or not.

Upon her wandering she came across something special. She put her collected flowers down and found that she had indeed made a rare discovery. It was an old bee hive of sorts that was hinging on a dying branch above her. She looked at it and wondered exactly how she was going to get it down and see if there was any kind of honey left in it. She could use it now when winter was soon upon her. Sore throats did well with a lick of honey.

She went over to the tree and put her front paws on the tree. She looked again and saw no buzzing around the hive and knew it was left for good. The season was also and indicator that no one was living it. The chance of any honey in it was low, but it was worth to check. She began pushing at the tree, to shake it. Little did it help though and the tree stood still. She groaned and tried pushing her entire weight into it. No luck.

She took a glance at her surroundings, wondering if anyone could help her.