Herbalists' Cache Was scream “Please don’t call 9-1-1!”

Kovette smelled the other before she saw him and her pace slowed as a result, cautious but composed. She proceeded forward despite the presence of another, her encounter with Lilia relaxing her initial worries that came with being by oneself; if she viewed everyone as having the worst intentions, then that would only make her travels more difficult. After all, she was just a visitor in these lands—she was not born or raised by them, they were entirely foreign to her. So, she had decided that it wouldn’t hurt to seek out directions, wherever she might find them.

When the yearling came into view, Kovette paused, met with a narrowed gaze that her coat bristled beneath. The other wolf looked scraggly—the dark specks and streaks that were the burrs and branches stood out against his lighter coat, untouched or tangled she couldn’t decide, and something about his face seemed... off. From where she stood, the northerner could not see the matting in the darker portions of his face, she just knew that something didn’t look quite right. “Are you... sick...?” she called out, uncertain about exactly what she was seeing and uneasy from his appearance alone; in her experience, an unkempt appearance often meant an illness was present, and it was drilled into her to avoid said appearances. Granted, the lessons taught were in regards to prey, but she couldn’t think of any reason for the same rule to not be applied to strangers. And although the male did not smell like sick prey, she worried nonetheless.