Herbalists' Cache lull of war

warmth leaves. warmth returns.
he does not understand why, only that absence stretches long, cold, empty. he calls for her, but his voice is small, swallowed by the den. his limbs push against his siblings, seeking, grasping. they are warm, but not her.
then—motion. scent. a shift in the air before she is there, curling close, pressing him into the safety of her chest. breath washes over him, voice humming low and soft.
his cries fade. his body stills.
she is here. that is enough.