Moonspear know that the shine inside will always keep you strong

Katmai had heard of migraines, but he'd never witnessed one. He took Treepie's word as law, filing away the symptoms just in case he ever came across such a thing again.

Mention of a knock to the head did not ease his worries.

"Has Alaric found anything to help?" he asked her. Alaric was a folk hero — his father had said so. Surely she was in the best possible care? But still, in his heart he worried for her. For her head and for the traces of melancholy he could almost smell. Perhaps it was simply exhausting to have such a condition.

He sat beside her and eventually followed her gaze, interested in the odd deformations in the mountain despite wanting to dwell on what he had seen. It had reminded him, he realized, of that terrible journey back to Moontide, when Valiant had been so sick and they'd all three been hungry and weak. There'd often been a dizzy, hollow-eyed look about the man. Perhaps he, too, had suffered from migraines.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" he asked her, something unpleasant churning in his gut. He reminded himself that Valiant had gotten better — but though he'd just met Treepie, he did not like to think of her with the same dead-eyed look on her face.