Herbalists' Cache willow frost

star eater moved swiftly, the cold forgotten as soon as she saw the smear of blood on her husband's hide. her breath hitched, but she did not ask him what had happened—not yet. not with the others present. instead, her nose pressed to his side, the warmth of her tongue dragging through the copper tang of his wound, cleaning him as gently as one might soothe a restless child.
who did this? she murmured under her breath, but her touch belied the softness that only he was given. a pause to glance over him, check the muscle beneath the skin, ensure he was still whole. satisfied, if only barely, her attention slid toward the stranger who stood with the same blood-soaked pride of a distant cousin.
a woman cut from sea-ice and marrow. thick with old scars, red eyes like firelight.
star eater did not shrink, but nor did she bare her teeth. instead, she dipped her head with the faintest of nods. polite. measured. but her concern for sun eater still clung to the edges of her words.
i am star eater, wife to the chieftain, she greeted coolly, gaze drifting back to her husband as if to remind him she had not yet finished her tending. her tongue worked over the last streaks of red along his shoulder before she continued.
welcome to saatsine, sivaak. may your strength serve us well.
and though she spoke the words, her eyes lingered just a beat too long on sun eater, on the way he stood, bloodied but still proud.
they would speak of this. soon.