Seaside Moors Is someone else in me?

The reaper normally kept herself, collecting herbs she could find, and skittering away when any came near her. She noticed that there was an abundant of children within Rusalka, however there was limited adults. It came to the point that even she, a new member, became an Epsilon. She knew the rank was not deserved, but leftover. 

Then finally, the group seemed to move back. She followed alongside them and entered the moor- it wasn't near the coast, but seemed to give the same life as one. Grímnismál was used to the coast life, a familarity of sorts, and wasn't too comfortable to leave it just yet. This place didn't carry near the seasalt, as she passed, there was more shrubs and trees then alongside the sands. Her old isle' of course carried the same, around sprinkled with sandshine, then in the center with the forest. She usually laid near the outer side with her mother.

It felt nice to feel the seabreeze hit her so. She looked into the distance where the sea may be- thinking of a visit.

their newest member was a reticent sort. quiet. erzulie knew only few of the greeneries that kept grímnismál busied. but this day she went off to find the young healer, a length of odd orange kelp trailed behind her. perhaps the she-wolf might know its name, or a use for it.
"i hope de moors be treatin' you well," erzulie chuffed as she came upon the pretty cure-maiden. "i foun' dis. do you know it?" she asked, setting the sea-plant nearby. but she had seen grímnismál look toward the ocean, and now too glanced its way with a wistful stirring in her heart. how long it had been since she had attended the saltwater?

"Yes," Grímnismál nearly jumped at the presence but nodded, maybe rather too much. A fast answer as well, she was startled being at the moment. There was a wariness to strangers, even if they did accept her so. Being so used to the company of only her mother, it was something she was not prone to getting used it.

Hopefully, she'll learn so.

Her red eyes focused on the plant. It was recongizable, "That's sea holly, miss," the reaper responded, "they ease cramps, convulsions, and the falling sickness." She supposed they were useful for many. She found it especially useful to those who fell for the falling sickness; so her mother called it. If a wolf was prone to strokes and seizures, taking the sea holly often helped reduce the attacks.

sea holly. erzulie looked at the trailing thing again, committed its scent and look to memory. "you have de knack for it," she remarked, considering what the girl had offered rusalka upon joining. "dere was more where i found it." an arch of her brow, a silent invitation for grímnismál to accompany her toward the beach.
the yearling yet fit well into the stoic aloofness of rusalka, each serving their own tasks until called together for the greater good. if one wished to exist upon the fringes of the coastal society, they would not be forced to do more — until rusalka called upon their might. but long had those days been gone, and less chance of it now with their truce among the firebirds. "have you located a den yet?"

"My mother taught me." She said with a bit of embarassment. Memory was a keen topic to the reaper, though practice was not. She had a lot to learn and admitted so, especially being new to actually treating patients. But suppose with no patients- it meant a blessing. A peaceful life she desired.

"I found a tree, I kinda like.. It seemed nice to store herbs and spiders there." Grímnismál said. There was not much thought where to sleep, but where to start her 'witch hut.'

"an' spiders?" erzulie echoed with a faint surprise floating across the curious planes of her face. for a long moment she wondered if the young woman had misspoken, but it did not seem to be such. "your mot'er taught you about more den herbs," came her dry observation, not without its sugared edge of intrigue, silent invitation to grímnismál for an explanation if she so wished to give.
her gaze flicked to the sea holly. was that not what the medic had called it? "dere is ano'ter kind of plant like dis, but it is only found in de spring, an' has green leaves. what is de name of dat?" she settled herself, ready to share with grímnismál this particular sort of education.

"They're harmless!" Rather frantic, Grímnismál exclaimed rather loudly, "they're the long-legged ones.. Their webs are useful in bulks for soaking blood." She then added, rather nervously. It seemed rather foolish to use webs as a sort of 'bandage,' and especially so if its just one. Though when combined with others, they can be quite useful. As well as messy, if not handled right.

Silk worms were similar, but the reaper did not know if they were around these parts.

"I'm not too sure unless I see it." A similar plant that grows in spring, and has green leaves.. Very vague, she sunk in a bit of thought trying to figure what it could be. Though without a look, she couldn't really know.

harmless! pah! but erzulie did not speak these things. even small and creeping many-legged insects had their uses, she supposed, even if she did not know them. "i use moss for dat," she murmured reflexively, spurred by a curiosity that the webbing could be wielded in such a way. 
attempting to recall if she had ever done such a thing, the woman grinned. "come. i will show you." gathering herself up and dusting debris from her flanks with a whisk of her tail, the harlot made as if to set off toward the kelpsite. "do you know anyt'ing about deliverin' de little ones, grímnismál?"

"Moss..?" She understood spiderwebs were quite a delicate feature to use, it was also hard to gather. It was how her mother herded the spiders to gain the many supplies for wounds, but she didn't think moss was an option either. Though knowing her mother as well, she properly thought of it at some point, but preferred the whimiscle ways of the spiders, which was a large reason she was a 'witch,' rather then just a 'packmate' of the nordic sea-group.

Grímnismál knew she would have to gather some then, finding use in that.

Then the reaper followed the woman to the unknown herb, and she was rather excited to what it could be. As the land was so unfamiliar, she was curious on what grew around. Though then Erzulie asked a question, and she only could shake her head, "no, by the time spring came, my home was destroyed." it was something she imagined to learn by her mothers teachings, but now the time will not come.

"yes, moss. it is de green dat be growin' on de bark of trees, or on stones, if you look down. soft. t'ick. good for soakin' up blood from head woun's and de like." had she some near, she might have offered to show the girl, but her stores of such were barren. it would require a trip inland to replenish, which she did not wish to make at this time.
here was the kelp now, drifting in a tide pool with its golden edges. she shot a glance to grímnismál, attempting to read the young healer's face and see what she might make of it.
"it is funny. i started wid kelp," she revealed, smiling, "an' learned from dere dey types of herbs de sea had to offer."

She was listening with utmost focus, absorbing the information. As a yearling, while she had knowledge of herbs, she was still too young to know exactly how to use certain ones, nor' had the information of the Gods to know it all. Surprisingly so, she knew little to nothing about the more oceanic uses, especially moss and.. Seaweed.

"What do you do with kelp?" Shyly so, did Grímnismál ask.

powerplay lmk if not good

erzulie pondered the question a moment, and then pulled the kelp toward her in silence. she took one wet end in her jaws, carefully; the harlot lowered her muzzle and sought to wrap it gently around one of the girl's paws. firmly, not tightly, assured of herself.
when she had created the bandage, erzulie breathed upon the kelp, filling it with warmth so that it began to dry beneath her mouth. it would create a sensation of soft constriction. "place dis upon a bleedin' woun'. it will not keep de blood from spilling out, but may slow it a bit. put herbs beneat' it. de kelp will hold it in place." seeking the girl's eyes, an odd smile upon her countenance as she watched for the woman's reaction.

Her mother was not nearly as nice. Rather the witch would slur various and profanities to Grímnismál, often insulting her knowledge and basic ability of being a wolf. It caused her to have a rather negative view, and worsened when even her tail was taken away by the shark of the bay. Her mother never gave the end to that moment, and even when she was on a near deathbed from that fever, her mother continued to insult. She insisted, that Grim treat herself in that situation.

She nearly expected the other to be the same, instead she showed her softly by wrapping the kelp around her paw. Grímnismál had faintly seen this, but it was so long ago, and the same mother did not mention it again, "Is it able to be stored..?" Her voice, soft as a mouse, asked gingerly so. If so she would desire to constantly stock up upon the kelp, keeping it near often.

"it can be, yes. but it must be kept wet. if you store it, make a little pool near de water and put it dere to soak. if it stays too long out de water, it will not be effective." the girl's voice was hushed; erzulie wondered at what had caused such timidity in grímnismál. 
"what brought you to healin'?" she asked after a moment, having not recalled if she had directly inquired. a pause; her gaze drifted to the wrapped kelp and then to the sea beyond. "usually i only use it when it be available. if you save it beneat' ice, sometimes it is slimy and unfit when you go to collect it again."

"My mother was the islands healer.. It was forced, but I always liked it." She almost let it slip to say 'witch' rather then healer. Though Grímnismál, being naturally an anxious wolf, didn't want to be scorned. She was afraid of gaining the same label as 'witch,' and only hoped to be but a peaceful medic of Rusalka.

She shuffled rather uncomfortably, while intaking the knowledge Erzulie granted.

"forced?" erzulie inquired lightly. perhaps that explained how hesitant grímnismál appeared to be at all times. not for nothing had she been a prized courtesan; the way to know such things was never to pry. "i learned from a woman named marie. well, de basics, anyway. she always gave me de hardest work," erzulie chuckled in her velveteen voice, glancing out back across the sea before delivering a look of solidarity to the younger she-wolf.

"Um, no one else was really interested, I suppose.. I came from a place of nordic warriors." And true to the day they died, and the calls of sounds of their dying breathe and scattering, they were warriors to the end. None too many learned much besides hunting and fighting, for their minds were but to be skilled and protect the isle, it was all they cared for.

And by pure bliss, did the witch of the isle knew variety of herbs. Some, more harmful then others, but nonetheless joyful they knew that someone could heal them so. Sad to say, she was but a lunatic in the end, and they would sigh and curse the factor of any wounds to go toward her. No one wanted to learn from the sea-hag, and so in the end, thrusted into the only child she had, Grímnismál.

"I haven't met too many healers, that are.. Nice." The only one, was Erzulie, and the only one she knew, was her mother.

"be hard to have any sort of bedside manner wit'out bein' kind to de one you be treatin'." what sort of place allowed rough physicians? the silent bayou wolves who knew the secrets of the mud and the trailing roots had been gentle in their application, even without the clean edges of what marie had said was 'modern.'
"i come from de swamp, a place filled wid water and long weepin' trees. air so close an' hot it felt like you breathed de sun." warriors, grímnismál had said. "no warriors dere. well, not ones dat were so easily recognized."

"My mother would just kinda, force it, since they were so unwilling." Of course no one would want to be treated by a witch, and despite perhaps being on deaths bed they would try and have poisonous words against her so- Grímnismál heard it. Perhaps though she made it worse by not making it easier and roughly applying wounds or suggesting they may die in any second, even worse with the thoughts of poison looming behind that she said would use anytime.

The reaper never knew if her mother actually would, but there has been a few times when some patients simply.. Pass without a reasonable cause. She would shiver at the thought, and did not wish to ask if her mother dared to. 

"I never seen a swamp." Grímnismál saw low-hanging trees within the mainland, sweeping nearly to the floor, but she never saw a place hot like the sun, and filled with water like the ocean. She was curious on such a place, "is it nearby?"

the more she heard of it, the more unsure erzulie was that her companion had ever received a proper medical training. she had wisdom when it came to plants and their parts, but there was more to curing than that. yet, demure as always, the harlot kept her comments to herself, experiencing a deep feeling for the girl's plight.
"dere be somet'in' similar close by," she purred, thinking of the tangled slough that would by now be lessening in reek as the cooler weather set in. "but it is not de bayou. dat be a land all its own." however she gathered herself in the event that grímnismál wished to see it, enjoying her time with the shy healer.

"I'd like to see it.." She wondered if her own was similar to that of a swamp, but it wasn't warm and deducted it was false. She remembered her mother preferred to remain by the tidepools on their isle, staying far away from the rest, and more often then not, chasing anyone who came near.

Erzulie was right though, she had barely any practice upon her medical skills, simply the knowledge that was passed down. Her mother would either say fend for herself upon being injured, but at the same time didn't trust her enough to actually tend to patients.. It was a toxic relationship to say the least, that made her quite self-conscious.

fade? <3

knowing she should not press the girl beyond the edge of their conversation, erzulie gestured with her muzzle in the swamp's direction. "let us go now." an invitation, and one she accepted for them both as she led them into a quicker clip. 
for now the moorlands would keep; erzulie would treasure her time beyond them.
her heart yearned for the open world, and it was with a glowing expression she looked last upon the young healer.