Herbalists' Cache Disintegrate
confidence, charisma, character
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A trail of blood led from a quiet maple forest to the furthest edge of a veritable herb garden, but in the cold months, there was nothing but dried remnants in the Cache. The trail of blood wound through the trees, indicating that the wolf who left it had searched for something, but eventually, she collapsed at the base of a tree. She was too weak to go any further. Saena curled her battered limbs in, craning her neck to lick tenderly at the large wound on her side. The tang of her own blood made her wrinkle her nose, but she continued, knowing it was possibly what would save her life.

Wildfire had done more damage than Saena first assumed, but that didn't matter much. A host of large wounds could sometimes spare the life of a gravely injured creature, and a small wound could fester and poison the blood. Whether she lived or died depended on how lucky she was. Saena knew she was generally unlucky, so her prospects were grim. Satisfied with the cleaning job, she turned her attention to the smaller wounds she could reach on her legs and shoulders, but the abundant cuts on her face and back were left to bleed.

Saena shivered and curled in on herself, overcome at last by the pain of her injuries and the aftermath of a fight. She huddled all her limbs in close, marveling at how frigid she felt and how she'd never been so cold before. When she closed her eyes to try to stop focusing on the pain, she knew that she would either wake beyond this night or she would not. If she woke, she would survive her injuries. But Saena didn't have the energy to think about it or fight it, even with the possibility that she would sleep for the last time, so she dozed off as snow began to fall heavily over the taiga.