Herbalists' Cache Taste Of Fame

Grace's mental health was questionable of late. Though she still slept in Nova's niche in the Crook, the yearling mostly kept to herself or stayed on the fringes of things, keeping quiet and voicing nothing until asked. Nova's leaving, though she'd come to accept the reasonings, was still a hard pill to swallow. Her confidence was at almost lower than it'd ever been, but never could she fall as low as she'd been around her father. That was an upside, right?
Today, the russet girl struck out from the willows and, crossing the border, made the journey towards the Maplewood. She'd planned on going to the newly regrown forest to see what was left, maybe even the den she and Esaro had shared for a brief time. However, coming upon Herbalists Cache, the healer to be was drawn into the patch of remedies. Things were back to normal by now, and though it wasn't as lush as the last time she'd been here, the herbs seemed to be growing nicely. With a small smile to herself, Grace rolled back on her haunches with her bad leg sticking out from beneath her awkwardly and pawed with a silky touch at the greenery closest to her. 

@Arturo figured this would be a good place for a caregiver thread lol

thank you for starting this! c:

Riptide's ventures for his collection of medicinal plants took him, it would seem, to opposing odds of the Teekon Wilds to pursue them, drawing him out of Stavanger Bay for days on end — though he deigned not to leave the bay until his private stores were arranged and properly buried but easily accessible before he left the Depth's potential pack lands. Since the incident on Ravenshook Cliffs he had yet to speak to the sea king though for the very life of him Riptide could still not place how exactly he knew of him, or how he'd came to be apart of his pack. Perhaps he'd been raised to be a sea witch and things simply fell into place. The spirits were silent on that when he asked them, and the very strangest part was he remembered no mother, nor any father. He knew he had no siblings but he came into being somehow. Yet, Riptide was not awfully bothered by the gaping holes in his memory. The Sea would provide for him and that was all that he needed to trust in. Well, besides the sea king, of course.

There was nothing specific he was in the search for and in this case he had left his curved strip of bark back home. His muscles were still sore, and one of the shallow abrasions from his fall had tore back open, aggravated by his inability to stay still. He had to work. He had to stock and he had to prepare. Though Doctor was also a sea witch if she was to be believed he did not intend to be lax on his given duties. The Wilds around him were a little sparse though it's cause he didn't know and though he thought it a tad strange he never thought to ask. Perhaps they had always been this way — he truly wasn't sure.

His steps slowed as he caught the sight of a russet colored female in the distance, though from the distance left between them — quite a good bit of it — he could not see specific details. A low chuff was given to announce his presence to her moments before he paused to nibble at an itch on his leg before his salmon colored tongue smoothed over the fur he'd mussed, before his fiery red-orange gaze settled upon her once more.

The approach of another was behind her, and her ears cupped back a few moments before his chuff of greeting. Her spine prickled nervously, and she stood and fully turned to him. He looked away, however, itching at something and taking a moment before turning his attention back. He was either highly confident in his skills, or uncaring that she was a stranger. Her back had been turned, and he'd announced himself. This all meant he wasn't aggressive, right? At least not yet. Her upward shifted leg twitched, the yearling herself trying to decide wether or not she wanted to hike it up yet. If she needed to run, that was the only chnce at escape.
Trembling in slight and body tense, the abused russet girl was clearly uncomfortable. Her words were just above a squeak, but at least loud enough to hear.
            "H-Hello. I-Im Grace."

She was nervous. This became rapidly apparent to Riptide who watched her tense movements with observant fiery, red-orange eyes. Nervous and perhaps hostile. Sometimes, they ended up being one in the same. He did not know her and thus did not think he had quarrel with her, nor any reason to harm her. Her edgy behavior suggested that perhaps there was some history in the blank void in ...generally majority of Riptide's memories. Or, perhaps, she was inherently a nervous woman. He was a bit unstable himself — his lips pulled terse for a moment as he considered that — but not in a nervous fashion. It was not fear that caused his mental instability ...thought in his credit he'd done good thus far at keeping Arturo from battling him for control. His instability was the parts of his personality Riptide had yet to discover, admittedly.

She was exceptionally uncomfortable, looking as if she were going to take flight and flee at any moment despite that there was nothing hostile nor aggressive in the sea witches' posture. As it was, he'd made no moves to draw near: favoring to simply stand where he'd first acknowledged her presence. She stuttered out a meek greeting followed by her name. Grace. “Grace?” Riptide repeated, though the question was purely rhetorical. “I'm called Riptide.” He spoke to her, gentle, as if he were speaking to and attempting to soothe a frightened child.

Grace didn't have a hostile bone in her body, really, at least not one she'd ever known. The man that called himself Riptide called out, confirming her name in a tone that suggested she need not answer. She nodded her blackened muzzle anyways, taking in his pose with golden eyes that calmed by the second. He wasn't dangerous, or perhaps the right word was that he wasn't aggressive, for surely this larger man could be dangerous. His tone won her over though, her leg hangling limply on the earth as her muscles relaxed and her face softened. She licked at her lips and her tail curled along her flank, but her ears cupped forward in curiousity.  
                   "W-What're you doing here?"
The words weren't a challenge, just as skittishly but at a louder tone than before. This was a place filled with valuable herbs that she could grow within the borders of her home, in the garden she had yet to plant. Perhaps they could teach each other a thing or two? Or maybe he was just passing through with no knowledge or interest in the plants here.

Riptide watched as Grace gave a nod of her muzzle as he repeated her name despite that it had been rhetorical, and with muted curiosity as she relaxed and her leg, previously lifted in desire to take flight, appeared to coax back to the earth. With the assurance that she wouldn't flee he ghosted forward a few steps but kept ample distance between them. She stuttered out a question and though they were not challenging to his right to be there, the sea witch couldn't help but take offense to it. “Am I not welcome?” He inquired, a soft lace of venom twining through his tone. Ah, there it was. The instability, the thing that made him more dangerous than the gangster: tenfold, perhaps. While the gangster had some sort of moral code he followed Riptide was not bound by such things. No, no. She did nothing wrong. Riptide attempted to assuage himself. Yet, the sting of insult lingered with soft pinpricks and left a bitter taste upon his tongue. This was a free territory and he had as much right to belong here as she did.

“What are you doing here?” He returned her question without truly answering the one she had posed to him. His intentions had been strictly pure, strictly amiable. He only wanted to collect some more medicinal plants but that truly wasn't her business: unless he deemed it to be so. For now, he maintained his distance, his svelte shoulders stiffening as the tension cracked and nearly became palpable around the sea witch as he fixated his fiery, red-orange gaze upon her, wondering if she would respond to his question or, like him, take offense to it. It was a... social experiment of sorts.

Fear gripped the yearling at his poison words, her ears drooping to the sides of her head as she took an awkward step backwards. He didn't move, but she could feel the tension suddenly thickening against her soft red fur. Riptide's shoulders tensed, and Grace's eyes hardened, yet still the shake of her body was unmistakable. Her words, soft, were a sickly sweetness, the kind that made your teeth hurt and your belly churn with one taste. The FAKE kind. She'd seen Nova do much the same thing to others, and decided that now was as good a time as any to see if it worked for her too.
               "As welcome as I, and probably doing the same thing in this place thriving with herbal remedies."
Her clipped tone faded out gently and she took another step back, but surprised herself by rolling intentionally back into a sit with her leg sticking awkwardly to the side. Her coal face kept a stoic mask, however much her body shook. After a moment of silence, she dipped her head and sniffed at the patch of clover-looking flowers in front of her. The white flowers told her, however, that this was chickweed, something helpful for coughs. Her golden orbs only glanced at it from her periphery, never letting the male stray from her main line of sight. Soundlessly, she scratched at the earth beneath to unbury the roots, using the utmost care not to break said life givers. To replant them would take much, much longer if she had to do it by seed, but if thats what had to happen so be it.

Her words were sweet, sickly so and the sea witch found himself cringing from the falseness her tone carried. The sea witch responded with a slow leer upon his lips and a roll of his eyes. He had no patience for the attitude or her false pretenses. He'd only came here to gather medicinal plants for his cache back at the Bay — not to deal with trembling females that acted like he had no business being there; though if that was truly what she thought (this was merely Riptide's own assumption, mind, as he didn't truly know) then her words would mean that she had no business there either. “Mhm,” Riptide hummed in agreement. “I wasn't planning on going anywhere, regardless.” He told her with a twitch of a smile that didn't meet his eyes, simply because it hadn't been a smile of mirth. It had been a tight thing, unable to deduce what he thought of her but unable to help that she had yet to make an appealing case to him.

She had no right to chase him from free territory as far as Riptide was concerned, though, the way she held her leg out awkwardly and at an angle that the sea witch perceived to be unnatural he doubted she would do a whole lot of chasing. Admittedly, he wasn't sure what he was looking to stock up on while she had zeroed in on a plant he recognized as Chickweed. He moved a good few paces away from her, willing to ignore her as she ignored him as he sniffed at the ground, fiery gaze looking for something he did not yet have at his disposal.

    It worked.
Grace almost sighed in relief. Learning from Nova had once again truly helped her in life. He didn't push further, and though he did roll his eyes, the witch and yearling both seemed a little more at ease. Riptide smiled, but it wasn't out of happiness, that much Grace could tell. With one last comment, he began his own search for what Grace could only think of herbs.  While she was still wary of the man, she was a kind soul at heart. Clearing her throat and trying to shake her nerves, she took a warmer tone with the man. 
                        "Are you looking for anything specific? Maybe I could help."

i decided to go ahead and conclude this.

As Riptide had deduced to ignore her, and did so quite joyfully, she made any offer to help him in a tone that was much warmer than the others she had used previous. The sea witch sneered to the ground and flicked his tail dismissively. “I don't need your help." The sea witch hissed at her, his salmon pink tongue drawing across his lips. "Now leave me alone.” He warned her lowly, willing to chase her from this territory if it came to it. Perhaps she had finally came around but either way Riptide didn't care and was bored by her presence. He was so easily bored. Without any further words and no offered explanation for the sudden shift in his demeanor and mood the sea witch (though these mood swings were a common occurrence for Riptide) continued on gathering his Chickweed, leaving her there to go about her own devices — so long as those devices involved leaving him alone.