Herbalists' Cache sleeping mist

she headed his call, though not without hesitance. not because she was afraid of his disapproval—they had done right, snuffing that pest from their turf. but because of the information she'd been given. she had much to stew on, though she would keep her disapproval hidden.

coming to stand before him, she raised a brow in question. the corpse still flooded by blackfell's birds, who'd nearly picked all the entrails clean. good. 

"you call, cousin?" if he was seeking an explanation, she would oblige.