The Sentinels one never learns how the witch became wicked

She had grown restless lately. Winter meant it was too cold for gathering herbs, which was what she preferred to do with her time, so she had tried to occupy herself in other ways; nothing compared, though. Exploring was another love, and Speedy hadn't done much of it since joining the pack on the mountain, so when she felt the familiar wanderlust suddenly overtake her, she wasted no time answering the urge. She had slipped from her herb-filled den, down the mountain, and across the borders with the beach as her destination. It had been so long since she had been there, and she wanted to smell the sea air and watch the waves rhythmically rush towards her; it was all she thought about as she made her way towards the ocean. 

The strange sounds were what drew the healer initially from the outskirts of the scorched forest. She normally avoided the creepy place but today, the sounds of...suffering? made her wander between the ashen trunks in search of whatever she thought might be injured or sick. She froze when she saw him limp on the ground, and for a few terrifying seconds, she thought he might be dead. But she saw the rise and fall of his chest eventually, and with small, relieved sigh, she padded softly towards him. Are you okay? she asked worriedly as she came to a stop a few steps away. Do you need help? She silently cursed herself for not figuring out some way to bring any of her plants, but really there was no way she could have been prepared for this.