Sunspire Mountains dead woman walking

He'd at least seen how some of these plants could be applied; they'd been used on him plenty of times. There was no way for Glaukos to be certain that they were the right plants exactly, or that they'd be very effective, but he crammed them in to his mouth anyway and began to masticate. As he did this, he worked at the snow and the mud until there was a decent amount. It would be very cold and probably feel awful on her already frigid skin, so he'd hold off until the weeds and grasses had been applied.

The wound itself was quite deep. Glaukos didn't know enough to check for infection (such as fever) so he didn't, and without warning he went in to start applying the chewed plants to the wound; it would have been better if he'd cleaned it out somehow, but by the time he'd thought to do that, he'd been chewing grass like some kind of cow.

She said she felt stupid? He focused on the work until his mouth was empty — in time to answer her.

Glaukos. Short, sweet, to the point. He gathered some of the plant remnants that were trapped in his cheeks and between his teeth, balled them up with his tongue, and spat them in to the snow. The flavor wouldn't quit. He cast a look at the mud puddle as he considered the next steps.

How's that feel? Probably shitty.