Herbalists' Cache Weep for yourself

What the hell was wrong with him? The last thing he wanted was any harm to befall his daughters… so why would he unthinkingly squash Sophia like that? Cambria didn’t understand what had compelled him to hold onto her so tightly. In hindsight, he’d actually wanted to bite her too, a thought which had him heaving again.

After the second wave of hurling—and a few coughing and ultimately unproductive aftershocks—Cambria could only lower his head and let tears, snot and drool leak from his face into the puddle of vomit at his feet. He sniffed pitifully and swung away from it, shuffling a few feet away and swiping a pale foreleg across his mismatched eyes.

He heard voices and stilled, his foreleg still suspended in the air. His ears flicked as he tried to catch what they were saying. He couldn’t make out any words, though the Dragonling registered two distinct voices, both masculine in timbre. He swallowed and put a little more distance between himself and the relics of yesterday’s supper so that he could tip his snout into the air and sift for scents.

Unfortunately for all involved, he was upwind. Cambria eventually let out a soft woof to alert the others to his presence, his stomach doing an uncomfortable roll. He didn’t think he’d be sick again, though the guilt churned deep inside him. In retrospect, he thought he’d caught himself before actually hurting Sophia… but what if he was wrong? And what if Odessia forbade him from coming back?

Probably for the best, he moaned under his breath. I’m a shit dad.