Herbalists' Cache into the unknown

star eater cradled her daughter close, pressing her nose into the damp, fragile curve of fa’liya’s spine. she felt the tremor in her, the weak fluttering of limbs too small to fight against the vastness of the world, and she held her tighter. no, she would not let her go. she would not let her slip away.
ao jorrāelagon sāpon.
[indentshe whispered the words between strokes of her tongue, rasping warmth into the tiny body pressed to her chest. each lick smoothed down the soft, dark fur, each touch a silent command. breathe. drink. live. and fa’liya obeyed. slowly, her frail body yielded to the warmth, and the weak pull of her mouth became steadier, more assured. the milk came easy, as though it had been waiting for her.
star eater exhaled softly, brushing her lips over the crown of her daughter’s head, feeling the weight of her against her chest. she was still so small, but she was full. her belly, once hollow, now swelled with nourishment. she was warm. good.
when the little one finally slowed, when her suckling became sluggish and her breaths deeper, star eater shifted. gently, she guided her daughter with the press of her paw, positioning her upright, and then—firm, steady—she pushed down along her back.
the girl squirmed. a small, startled noise left her tiny mouth before a sudden, tiny burp escaped her.
star eater smiled. she smoothed her tongue down over fa’liya’s head, then across her cheek, tucking the girl back into the safety of her warmth. despite her size, despite the struggle of her first breaths, she was fattening up already. star eater would make sure of it. she would keep her full, keep her strong.