Dragoncrest Cliffs The Sea Spared Me

Sobo giggled when Njord flopped over, allowing space for the boy to clamber with little grace over his ribcage. Njord promised a rousing tale of a storm in the sea, which brought a soft gasp to Sobo's lips. Despite his name, Sobo considered storms to be one of the most frightening experiences a wolf could have.

Unbeknownst to everyone, Haunt herself was having the most frightening experience most wolves could even boast of, and was bursting to spill the beans, but wouldn't in front of all those collected. If Sobo knew about it, no doubt he would try to find some way to fix it, shyness aside.

The lad's attention was drawn briefly back to the bundle, but his interest remained on the wounds. Up close, he could tell they weren't very deep and probably not very dangerous. A gentle tongue to clean them and a little salt from the sea might be sufficient. I wanna hear yer tale, he insisted quietly, settling in with a jostle or two of his elbows to listen while he fretted over one of the scrapes. Treasures could wait.

Erzulie's arrival made Sobo's head pop up. Whapping his tail twice in greeting, the boy said, oh manman! Èske lanmè sèl la ap ede? Here now was his moment to feel a little smug over his sibling, for he was learning the magick of healing, and Mireille knew nothing so useful as that!

Nevermind that Njord had already been in the sea plenty, so it wasn't like Sobo's proposed treatment would actually be that helpful now.