Herbalists' Cache ghosts

for sword but aw! <3

he called for @Swordfish in the hours that followed, doubling back along the trail he had taken from the taiga. lestan fed himself berries and fish pulled from a cold creek, though he did not allow himself to rest. not now.
the image of the strained, stricken faces haunted the man, ate at his edges. how had she known swordfish, known him well enough to leave a message?
lestan fought the suspicion. he and swordfish barely knew one another; he and elodie were the same. and his tones took on a slightly desperate sound as he howled again, thick emerald green crunching underfoot.