Noctisardor Bypass i’ll pick a star from the sky, pull your name from a hat

She had so much trouble keeping down her meals these days, Druid wasn’t surprised that she’d lost weight and even begun to lose some of her fur. She wouldn’t have felt terribly concerned if she wasn’t pregnant, which was of course the most likely culprit of her hyperemesis. There was little doubt now that she was carrying pups, so she knew she had to do whatever it took to retain nutrients.

Perhaps a blander diet might help, she thought as she meandered through Nightwatch Point. Druid chuckled under her breath, not at all sure what that might entail. There was always rosehips, per Heda’s recommendation, but she hadn’t found any. She sort of wished she’d thought to ask Etienne about it while he’d been visiting, which turned her mind toward the fellow with the wounded paws.

By the time she passed into The Pharmacy and followed Tealwater Creek as far as Birdsong Lagoon, Druid’s mind had moved onto other things. She took a seat beside the water and found she had to shift her weight to one side to accommodate a swell in her hairless belly.

Oh.

Hoping for @John, @Dinah or @Ava Amara (if she’s well enough to get around)? :)

it was strange to think that there was a whole side of family that dinah hadn't previously known about. mama never talked much about her parents or the people she grew up with, and rivenwood was still a mystery; a dog-eared book only now being dusted off.
and as time went on, dinah got used to it. she knew her way around for the most part now, the shortcuts through the thickets and between stretches of slate. but sometimes she still felt a bit like she couldn't breathe. it unsettles her, this place; the trees feel like they have eyes and the lake laps at her feet with a slimy tongue. it isn't home, but it has to be.
she'd gotten up to go for a walk, to get lost somewhere in the endless swath of noctisardor's evergreen. she can't remember the last time she'd really spoken to someone who wasn't ava. the sound of a voice from beyond the brush startles her enough to snap her from her focus, to slink forward and investigate.
and sure enough, it was druid; her aunt, or something like that. dinah feels her chest sink in relief as she catches sight of the silverwoven frame, and begins to trudge toward her. hey, she calls softly. druid, right?

She leaned backward a little so she could crook one black foreleg and rest a paw on the small swell. It was a little strange to see such an obvious sign that she was growing new lives inside her body. Druid’s paw smoothed up and down for a moment before she rested it on the ground again, just in time for a foxlike face to emerge from the nearby shrubbery.

Yes, she acknowledged with a nod and a smile, it’s good to see you, Dinah. As she spoke, Druid pushed onto all fours and swiveled to face Heda’s young daughter. I was just thinking of going on a bit of a scavenger hunt, she shared, pausing thoughtfully before adding, What do you know about rosehips, Dinah?

druid was a strange woman. unlike mama, she is built from smoke and cliffside, wrapped in tenacity; foreign in a way she could not quite wrap her head around. many of the others who wander around the valley were. she thought briefly of that girl mae, the one who had given her the pearl, and how she had been raised out here; she wonders if she is the strange one to them.
the dull blue eyes brighten at the mention of scavenging. ah — perhaps this could be a way to get out of the shell she'd been in for so long. you mean foraging? she teases, a smirk etching slowly across her lips. i've seen them before. the little berry things on rose bushes. we didn't have much in the way of roses in sweetharbor, but... it's getting to that time of year, isn't it? maybe we can find some.
her eyes linger curiously on the curve of druid's belly. do you... need 'em for something?

Dinah corrected her word choice and Druid’s eyes sparkled as she dipped her snout and concurred, Foraging is a much apter term for it.

She didn’t speak again until the yearling finished, her eyes trained on Dinah’s bright eyes and cunning features. One corner of her mouth was curled into a playful smirk. Druid didn’t miss it when the girl’s eyes dropped to her baby bump.

Your mother indicated they’re useful for fighting nausea. I’ve always just eaten grass but it hasn’t been very helpful this time. Anyhow, you sound like you might be a lot more knowledgeable on the subject than me, she acknowledged with a soft grin. Want to take point?

nausea. dinah's brows knit together as she scans the slowly blossoming foliage near the lakeside. they're usually near water, she nods to herself. we could maybe follow the creek, see if there's any that are budding? i can't imagine they'd like it much over here by the lake, though. too many trees. it's probably real crowded.
it felt good to think about the flowers again. the problem-solving half of the girl's adolescent brain kicks into overdrive as she nudges druid's shoulder, urging her to stand and follow. how bad is the nausea? like, on a scale of one to ten.

Druid listened closely to Dinah’s musing, not just because she was interested in the content—though she was keen to learn—but because this subject was clearly important to the yearling. According to her, they might find rosebushes close to water, though not necessarily beside the lagoon with its crowded shores. The elder she-wolf nodded as she followed along.

The nudge surprised her, though she very much welcomed it. Druid favored her niece with a smile, tipping her snout in agreement that Dinah should take the lead. She fell into step beside the younger woman, ears pricked to catch her question. She barely stifled a snort.

Mm, she mused, seventeen? It’s pretty severe. And in case this makes any difference, it’s not just nausea. I wish. She sighed lightly. But there’s a lot of actual vomiting as well.

dinah leads her aunt well into the brush, scoping out the edge of the creek still studded with slow-to-melt ice. nature persists, however, and through the cracks in the sludgy snow, she can see flower buds. oh, look, we've found something, she chimes. hmm.
there had to be more, right? the girl pushes onward, humming at druid's tales of misery and silently reminding herself to stay a good distance away, lest she catch the same — cold. sounds rough, her brows furrow in concern. i'm no expert, but, um, maybe you should take it easy for a while. get lots of rest, drink water, all that jazz.
further up the creek and back toward the planting grounds seems to be more promising. here, green stems shoot from the sad beige patches of grass — a sign of earth's renewal. oh, maybe somewhere over here?

Druid moseyed closer to Dinah when it seemed she’d found something. No sooner had she looked questioningly at the earth than her niece moved on. She followed closely, at first oblivious to her niece’s preference for distance. When Dinah kept pulling ahead, she eventually cottoned on and smiled to herself as she obediently fell back a yard.

That’s some expert advice, she replied with a wink.

Further along the creek they were following, Druid noted some signs of churned earth. She paused to glance around and laughed under her breath. Well, these were The Planting Grounds. Judging by the tone of Dinah’s voice, they’d hit pay dirt.

These were called The Planting Grounds when I was young, she told her niece. I know you’re an experienced forager. What about planting? Have you ever tended a garden of your own?

oh, please, dinah teases, a dry snort rumbling from her nostrils. i think it's more like common sense.
she pads a good few paces into the open, head lowered to the ground as she scouts the budding bushes and saplings. she all but disappears into a rather overgrown shrub, squinting her eyes closed until she pulls her head back out with a pleased grunt. aha! look what i found! i had a hunch this was the right kind.
on the ground she drops a collection of thorny stems, and sprouting from them are tiny, scarlet bulbs. she sticks her tongue out and spits a gob of wet, half-chewed leaves onto the soil below.
was it, really? she raises a brow at the comment on this area's name, a twinkle forming in the cerulean gaze. damn, someone should've told me that before i put my garden next to my mom's den. you might've seen it. it's kinda small and sad looking, but ava and i put a lot of love into it. she helped me start it yesterday, actually.

Druid observed Dinah with a measure of fascination. Perhaps this task was more mundane than magic, though she was still impressed. She also admired the yearling’s clear passion for this quite literal field of study.

Where did you learn all this? Your mother? she guessed, denying an impulse to toe Dinah’s findings, lest she get her “cooties” on them. Oh, really? I would love for you to show me this garden, she said in the next breath, endeared by the mention of it being planted with love.

She wouldn’t mind going now, if Dinah wanted, though first they needed to transport her findings… unless, of course, Druid was meant to ingest all of them right now? She found herself studying the thorny stems again and thought they looked sort of… unpalatable.

How exactly does one safely ingest these? she politely inquired.

i taught myself, there's a sense of humility to her tone, ears sheepishly splaying outward. she'd hardly ever met someone so enthralled by her rather niche skillset. there wasn't exactly a whole lot to do on the island growing up, so i spent a lot of my time just foraging, and learning about the natural world.
pah, there's not much to my garden right now. you'll just be looking at a giant pile of dirt, dinah snorts. but i bet it'll be really pretty in the spring. i planted all kinds of stuff, like some mountainbells, rhododendrons... oh, and some kinda berry!
she glances down now at the selection of rosehips. well, i'd assume you've gotta look for the ones that're the most ripe, she digs around the pile with an extended claw, lowering her head to examine them closer. but i'm pretty sure they're safe to eat either way.

I don’t know why I thought they were thorny; they’re actually a little berry of sorts, aren’t they? *slaps forehead*

Dinah was an autodidact. Druid was even more impressed, though her niece’s words sowed a new crop of questions in her mind. She didn’t speak to any of them now, particularly because she knew the family’s history on the island was more than a little fraught. But over time, she hoped to find out some of the answers.

I can’t wait, she said, watching as Dinah sifted through the rose hips. I don’t doubt you, though I’m wondering if I just eat them like this? Or can I mash them up and sprinkle them on some food? Or in some drink? Or maybe feed some to a rabbit, then eat that rabbit? Druid quipped with glittering eyes, as if she could ever pull off such a thing.

Apparently the talk of eating and drinking triggered a roll of nausea. Druid bit back a sigh. There wasn’t time to whip up some fancy recipe. She supposed she should be grateful she would have an opportunity to test their effectiveness so quickly.

Fighting queasiness, Druid bent and licked some of the riper rose hips into her mouth. They were very floral and a little tart. She chewed and swallowed… and felt absolutely terrible when she gagged a second later. A black fist flew to her mouth, which she pressed shut in the hope the wave would pass.

druid had a lot of questions that, admittedly, dinah did not know the answer to. i'm sure it'd be fine, she gives a quizzical look. depends on how much you like the taste of them, i suppose.
she watches intently as druid throws the little red berries back in her throat, and then dissolves into a minor panic as the nausea descends upon her yet again. drink some water, dinah urges, gently grabbing her aunt by the arm and walking her toward the edge of the creek. and maybe you should go rest. do you want me to walk you to your den?

She didn’t protest when Dinah grasped her elbow and steered her back toward running water. Druid ejected the contents of her stomach as soon as her black toes touched the shoreline, the sweet and sour taste of the berries coating her tongue as rosé chunder poured from her mouth.

It made her think of the time she’d discovered that vomit made excellent fish bait. Despite the clench and roll of her stomach, she smiled wanly. Wiping at her mouth, she was glad of the current washing away any traces of sickness. She quickly dropped her muzzle to rinse her mouth with a swig of fresh water.

I think I’ll just rest here for a while. Thank you though, Druid said a little wearily, shooting Dinah a grateful smile before she folded herself down on the bank. I’m sure you have stuff to do, so don’t feel obligated to hang around. I’ll see you later, Dinah.