Redhawk Caldera Don't Shake It So Hard

Ashton took his leave, swiveling on a sandy tan heel, and padding down the hallway, the hippie contemplated life. He thought on how the dirt felt between the webbings of his paws, the internal drum of his steady heart, the tunnels in which the air took to enter and exit his lungs, the refreshment his eyes feel as a swift blink invigorates the drying lense,
Everything of life was to be appreciated. And that was one thing Ash did, straight to the 'T'.

Arriving at his medical cabinet storage room, he walked to the farthest back of the little dug out until he came upon the 'herbolic' section. The wet nose sorted through the shelves until the smell of the few plants he needed.
Milkweed, Garris Root, and rosemary.
Then, traveling to the 'bandage' area, he removed a mass of webbings from the spiders he was harvesting, wrapping the pale white thickness around his dandy sandy paw. Nosing it off, he trotted over to the 'tools' niche, and carefully grabbed a wooden bowl he had worked hella hard to hollow out. Just the simple thought reminded him of the several plants he had to chew just to remove the splinters from his gums.
Pouring all his little naturalities in the bowl, he removed the flat stone from the second shelf, and after taking it gently in his jaws, smashed everything around in the bowl until he finally had the poultice he needed.

The teen took the bowl of healing mush, and took it down to the infirmary, carefully griping the mixture in his little incisors, as gentle as if he were carrying a pup.