Dahozhoni Meadow arco

“Thank you,” a genuine warmth touches Eset’s eyes as the final remains of prairie hare are cleared away from her lips, unknowingly playing right into the widow’s web.

She follows Sontana’s gaze to the red skin of her newly abraded legs, wondering what sort of creature had seen fit to leave their mark. “Try milkweed for the inflammation. Little orange flower… I… I’m certain there are… some growing… around… here.”

The meal sat heavy in her belly, deadening her limbs, and suddenly keeping her head upright is too great an effort.

“Sorry, I…. I’m suddenly quite… tired…” Eset manages to say, easing her chin to rest atop her paws. A sensation tingles over her cheeks and she is too fatigued to even itch it.