Thoughts

Athena had been in the meadow practicing her herb gathering again. She was attempting to test out medicinal herbs, trying to see which one worked best. Having had a small cut on her paw pad from a sharp rock, now was a good time to try this skill. She walked slowly with her tail down and her nose to the ground, sniffing carefully. Unsure of what she was looking for she finally settled on a bunch of tiny leaves that grew in clusters together. Taking some into her mouth she brought them under a nearby tree, enjoying its healing shade. She crunched the leaves in her mouth and spit them back onto the cut on her paw. She licked it slightly and waited...what else to do? As she waited she wondered where many of her pack mates were. She felt she hadn't been socializing much, but she was quiet and she enjoyed her alone time. Suddenly missing her mother she bent her head low, closing her eyes and sending her mother some good thoughts...wherever she may be. Mother would know what to do for this cut. She thought. Smiling, she let herself be overwhelmed by feelings of joy for having known her mother, instead of sadness for not knowing her any longer.

It was rare he strayed from the borders of the pack he pledged himself too – and yet, as the aspiring guardian slipped past the scents of those he was becoming familiar with, he found himself trailing along the edges of the mountains. Hours passed, though he took little heed to it. His eyes sought out the lands that rolled before him, keeping watch for anything that might be of use to the Creek – whether news, or prey.

Instead, as he came upon an expansive meadow, his gaze fell upon a pale cream she-wolf. He did not recognize her – likely only because he had been drawn in to his own thoughts as of late. Clearing his throat and uttering a low bark as greeting, the cinnamon male prowled forward leisurely, though his figure lifted as he attempted to stake claim to dominance over the stranger. “You’re from the Creek,” he announced, dipping his creamy muzzle down in way of quiet greeting. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

Athena bowed in respect to the wolf. I am. I'm Athena. She said. After a moments pause she continued, I have been exploring as of late which is why I am straying a bit from the Creek. It's hard for me to sit in one place sometimes.[/b] She wondered if she was doing anything wrong by straying out from the pack lands. She hoped that she wasn't disappointing any of her pack mates through her behavior.

His stance of dominant display seemed to go unchallenged – the she-wolf offered a bow, and whether this was of mere politeness or of subordination, he was uncertain. Closing the distance between them slightly, his muzzle canted slightly as she spoke, his gaze drifting from her and back once more to the meadow.

“Scimitar,” he introduced in turn, shifting his attention from her pretty features and noting the acrid scent of blood and gazing to the source. “You’re hurt,” he offered then, a light frown marring his features, though he made no move to inspect further. He was no healer, and he could see she had placed something upon the cut on her own accord.

Athena nodded and lifting her paw up, licked it a few times. I'm practicing herb gathering. I am not sure exactly what I put on the cut but I think it's working. She chuckled a little, becoming more comfortable around the wolf though he was much larger than she. Are you experienced in herb gathering? Athena asked curiously. She felt that independent learning had only gotten her so far. She knew what worked but knew little of why or how.

She looked into the wolf's eyes and found them to be strong and kind. She felt curious about him and was anxious to get to know him more.

His eyes drifted to her paw as she lifted it, her tongue seeping past her lips to lick at the wound -- likely, at this point, the best remedy she would find would be the very salt in her saliva. "No," he offered, giving a light shake of his head. He knew next to nothing of herbs, nor would he pretend to. "I had a friend who was an aspiring medic once, though," he rumbled, his eyes drifting to the horizon now as he recalled Luka -- a wolf he had considered family. "I had always envied his thirst for knowledge."

Shifting his weight then, Scim allowed his gaze to trail back to her, his silence only produced due to his thoughts. "I don't even think we have a healer in the ranks," he determined then -- but he was also very new and had yet to meet many, if barely any, of his pack mates.

Athena brightened. Wow. Wouldn't it be nice if I got talented enough at herb gathering to become a healer for the pack? She smiled at the thought. She would feel grateful to become someone as important as a healer. She continued, Your friend must have been intelligent, to have been an aspiring medic. It takes great skill for something like that. She noted genuinely. She continued, How new are you to the pack? Or have you been here long? She discontinued her incessant blabber. Sometimes when she got nervous for let her tongue run away from her and before she knew it she was blabbing on. She flushed slightly in embarrassment.

She was enthusiastic it seemed – a sweet girl, and in turn, one that Scimitar felt himself warming to. It had been awhile since he had met another he had felt so easy around.. let alone another he would have called a friend. “Perhaps that could be your goal then,” her offered in turn as a small smile played to his lips. As far as he knew, Swiftcurrent Creek had no healer, and if that were the case.. Athena would be completely indispensable to them.

She flipped the topic, stirring him to cast his eyes upon her once more as one ear flickered back thoughtfully. “Almost a month,” he spoke, after a moment of inquisitive thinking. Time had seemingly flown by, and it occurred to him that despite the fact he had been here for nearly four weeks, he still had not truly felt at home. “What about you?”