Herbalists' Cache das lied von der erde

@Apple <3

botany was the singular thing about his past upon which mahler allowed himself to dwell. he had practiced medicine in his younger days, but had given it up for some time now, and thus his knowledge had grown dull with disuse. but summer's warmth brought with it the growing of many green things, and as autumn loomed not far off, mahler knew he must settle into the creek as he had not yet.
and so he had gone traveling, and at dusk some miles from the creek he had found a dust-bitter place that wreathed with all manner of things. some names the musiker recognized; others he did not. and those he did the man muttered aloud, naming them, an adam of sentient plants.
it had become mahler's belief, one rigid and fixed, that swiftcurrent's punishment of chusi reflected a greater neglect of what he felt a pack's duty toward children should be. wölfe glauben solche dinge nicht! she — mahler refused to call her name into being — had hissed at him when he suggested the rule of their kind was flawed.
and yet he had, and yet he did. each mother deserved equal treatment, for it was through their effort and sacrifice that the pack continued. and so mahler did also, eyeing each leaf, each berry, each bud with assessment of how he might use it to achieve his aims.