Ankyra Sound VIII. Standing in the back door crying, now you're going to need a friend.

Guess I'll toss Stryx in again.

Time was precious. The boy moved first to do as he was told, but there wasn't much he could do alone. Stryx reacted to the blood sopping in to the soil as if it were a puddle of rainwater, glancing from it to the mother and then with a cursory dip across the babes at her breast; then she snappily issued some commands.

Vervain for the babes sake, ginger root if it can be found and chewed in time, as she listed this second thing, she looked pointedly at the pale beast of a man. You—strong man. Large heart-shaped leaves, very low to the ground. The flowers are small and the color of sunset; they don't matter... Rip them out by the root and bring me what you find. While explaining this she moved to the struggling woman's side and had begun to probe at her belly and underparts with careful gestures, ascertaining the damage, although it was quite clear.

Moss might soak up some of the blood, Stryx adds next, and turns her back on the patient to look around the chasm, realizing the grotto was one of the few places that did not facilitate the growth of anything green or useful. She hisses to the other pale wolf present—Kaertok—You! Find me moss, lots of it! Up the rise, in the forest there. 

What of the babes? Was the mother's body still able to feed them, was it warm enough, would they succumb too? No time—she had to focus on one or the other, and for now Raleska had her undivided attention.