Herbalists' Cache mintgrass

lestan mayfair knew the taiga, and ultimately it was the taiga to which he returned, driven by something adjacent to instinct which rattled the back of his teeth and dragged his hapless form vaguely in the direction of where natigvik had once been.
if he could only recapture that feral feeling — if only he could use it to sharpen himself into more, more than this wishy-washy pudding of a man.
night and day and night and day again before he stopped for a true rest and a hunt. 
the doe with blue eyes. he would look for her now; that vision had been his first of magick.