Cricket Creek Bog west coast blues

While she worked, soft ears shifted, idly listening to the conversation between Wildfire and the wounded man - they spoke of things she didn't know, of a pack and a plateau. Perhaps she ought to learn more about the land in which she lived, but scouting was a man's job, and she was permitted only to complete tasks suitable for women. Such as treating wounds, which she found herself concentrating in, aiming to carry out the job with precision.

She gave a brief nod to the darker wolf as he mentioned his lack of ability to move, and her brows furrowed, picking up the root in her jaws before beginning to chew it, hoping to release the juices into her mouth. The sylph halted the task, however, when the fiery one made mention of another healer. "Oh!" Daivya considered it for a moment before gently nodding again. "I think I have what I need, but perhaps I am forgetting something. If you think it would be worth calling them, please do." With that said, she continued chewing the root, making it into a poultice before turning and awkwardly apologising in advance to Issun - then she removed the mixture from her maw and placed it on the wound, hoping her memory had not failed her.