Dragoncrest Cliffs Barracuda

quennell bore a bloodied stump of a tail and swordfish a horrendous set of clawmarks.
bear.
the howling and meerkat's anguished scream brought her quickly, but not without her stores of powdered kelp and wet leaves from the same plant, aloe, lavender root, dandelion petals, and poppyseeds.
she bent over swordfish first. "meerkat," she said in a firm voice, hoping to cut through the young woman's panic. "chew de root," she said, pushing the lavender forward. "spread it along de cuts. eti," she said to her grandson, shoving the dandelion flowers and wet kelp toward the boy. "clean quen's woun', sprinkle de dandelion, wrap de tail in dis leaf. it will constrict as it dries, oui?"
she herself turned back to swordfish and she administered the first dose of poppy. "relax, mon cher, be still."
and then quennell! she divided her attention between swordfish's lacerations and helping etienne wrap the place where her son's tail had been.
and she did not panic.
"de will come to my den," she decided. the roja cave had been a place of healing before. it would be so again.