Wapun Meadow salt

Tadec was far from the healing sort; he had always had his hand in other specialties and could never focus well enough on learning herbs to be of much use there. It was a skill that was to be admired in others, but he was not interested in Reigi for the possibility of curing her, merely understanding what had happened to cause such foul wounds. The weaknesses of those around him had always been a perplexing and intriguing thing to imagine; Tadec found that he – himself – was a fragile hound and could easily have been overcome by brute force. Still, the thief was quick as a whip and cracked just as sharply.
 
At his song, the woman seemed to unfold into rolls of spilling silk and pleasure. Her eyes danced, and he continued to chirp for her until she spoke, casting Tadec into a state of stunned silence. The smoky creature did not believe she could speak at all. “Hain,” he told her the word in his natural tongue. If she should want him to do it again, she could request in a language that he understood. The Hedgerow that he used to speak to the others was difficult for him, and he much preferred the language of his birth.