Herbalists' Cache hold my cup

@Blackfell

the den was dim, scented thickly with crushed herbs and the lingering musk of caribou hide. star eater sat near the entrance, the cold air threading through the opening, rustling the loose tufts of fur along her shoulders.
her mind was still sharp with the weight of recent meetings, thoughts stacking like stones, one after the other.
she exhaled, steady, bracing herself, then lifted her head.
a soft howl.
his name left her lips as a summons, firm but quiet, meant only for him. she did not call for others.
she would speak with him alone.