Herbalists' Cache Tēähkomeûnts

Leave, yield, or die.
Choices. Two more, she realizes, than her own band chief in Ashēer would have extended.
A hand lingers mid-fold. She looks again into the eye of the man, this time seeing not a violent husband, but a leader substantiating his claim. And if such an ultimatum was true then no wolf, whose law is instinct, would refute him. If Sun Eater had not acted his leadership would have been found wanting.
“I understand,” Ayovi looks low upon her gathered materials; medicines to mend a bloody aftermath. If conditions within Saatsine do not improve they would be their own undoing.
And still, Darukaal marches.
Unused tarragon is re-arranged, packed into the rawhide satchel while soiled leaves are smoothed over with earth.
“I will take a hide, thank you. Tomorrow I’ll return to check these.”