She had been spending less and less time at home as the days grew shorter. @Sven was too old to smother with her constant company, and she had to help gather whatever was left for her mothers medicinal stores before the snows buried it all. She was returning from yet another trip to the north, a length of ginger root gripped carefully in her mouth as she approached the medicine den. If she bit down too hard she would be stuck with the bitter taste in her mouth for days. It would permeate everything she ate and drank, and she had no desire of reliving that experience again.
She looked about before entering the confined space, not seeing anything out of place, the scent of drying herbs tickling her nose. She placed the root lower down, tucked away almost out of sight. With any luck nobody would be needing it until spring (and if she had her way it would be reserved for her explicit usage). Feeling more confident now she had taken stock of what they had on hand she thought it was about time she did the rounds to catch up with her pack-mates.
As luck would have it a fresh scent wafted to her on the breeze and she smiled, being only acquainted with this one in passing. She plastered her most welcoming smile on her face as she set out on the trail, tentatively calling out as she walked “@Hecate?” She could have sworn that was her name…