Herbalists' Cache Tēähkomeûnts

Sister, and brother. Perhaps this explained their friction: siblings grappling for their brother’s esteem. It was a critical time within the camp, and like stones the beasts under pressure would crystalize or fracture.
“I will help, if you call off your guard.” Another tear, more blood and infection cleared away with bundles of moss and witch hazel, then packed and sealed with linseed and leaves found around the cache. A slow process. “I’m sorry for the sting; it needs to be done.”
The healer dabs her paws as the accented voice rolls again, pressing this time for an answer not unlike the one she wanted. Ayovi stills to look into the single eye.
“Is it?”