Hushed Willows All this pain I hold

The brute listened to her diligently as she spoke of the herbs. The bathing had paused long enough for him to look through the herbs as she explained the process, but his eyes did linger on the poppy for a moment longer. My sister once told me about poppy. Are you sure we won't go to another world if I make this into a mash? One brow raised in skepticism as he eyed the bulbs that rested near them with uncertainty before his attention once again returned to her. He could better see the angles of her face when she turned to look at him in return, and Omnium could have lay there for hours in a bid to memorize the now familiar face devoid of color. The face was one he had observed every day after their meeting, but it still captivated him nonetheless.

Etephyr's appreciation was met with a pull in his own chest. An emotion that was foreign, and it had grown exponentially in their travels together. Omnium had little concept of what that deep set feeling in his chest meant, but he was not blind to the amount of appreciation that he had for the smaller female beside him. No, Ete. Thank you. A usual smoky and low tone bled into a world of words left unsaid behind the ones that were spoken. A brute he was, but he found himself wanting to be more in the presence of her. He nudged her cheek with his nose as a last affectionate touch before his departure.

He left her side then. All four paws were under him in a moment, and he put his weight into his back legs to pull his front legs into the air. Glinting teeth latched onto the target easily: A willow branch that had slowly gotten wetter as the storm began to slow. It was entangled with many more near it, all of them bending with the new pressure. Omnium used his weight to slowly pull it down to where it was even with the ground to create the tension that he needed for his antics. He looked to the resting Etephyr as a cheeky smile appeared around the branch. Then, he released it.

The shock to the branches created a mock rain in their surroundings before the new found opening allowed the cold rain storm to pelt into their little oasis. Omnium stifled his laughter as most of it landed on the she wolf, washing away the majority of the mud that clung to her pelt. A lot of it landed on his own pelt to result in the same effect, but it had been to tempting to pass up. I hope you're not cold. I also know that one must first bathe before dressing wounds. Mud leads to festering, and we can not have that. An innocent waltz was made to her cache of poultice products before picking them up and chewing them just the same as he had been shown.