Herbalists' Cache heilende

when it dawned in the forest of aspens, mahler roused himself and felt hunger spike in his belly. a kill should be made, if for no one else than the pups. more pressing, his ruined medicines. how might he treat anyone without them? 
"@Elke," he urged in a low chuff, inviting the growing child to his side, "come vith me."
they pressed on through the aspen wood, mahler answering whatever inquiries she might make, and soon came upon a rain-wet pine forest, dappled in golden sunlight. he strode between the noble bodies of the ancient trees, marveling at them until he came across a patch of peppermint, and another of lemon balm. "good," he muttered, relieved, noting their locale as he began to harvest them with a glance toward elke.