Secluded Spring No! Not over there! Over here!

For @Gent ...good luck

“No, no no!” Could be heard as a small black shape scurried to and fro within the confines of White Fir Notch’s infirmary den. The heavy smell of herbs permeated the area as Sylva frantically moved between the small piles of herbs that she had been sorting. This had been great so far for the young healer in training. Learning about the various plants that co existed with them within the lands they shared. Learning how to help cure a cold or clean a wound. For some, the latter may have had little appeal to it, but it was a necessary part of life as a healer, one Sylva intended to take in strides to help her pack mates. It was a good life...it be great if the herbs could JUST sit still while she tried to sort them.

The ebony yearling skidded to a stop as her brown gaze frantically darted around the den, a squeak of triumph escaping as she locked eyes with the trespasser, a bushel of Salmonberries had succeeded in escaping from the pile they were SUPPOSE to be in and were caught mingling with the clump of Quailbush. Unknown to Sylva that it had been her own tail that had knocked the offending berries of their own pile when her back had been turned.

“There you are! You had me worried sick!” she scolded the misbehaving herbs as she gently lifted them up by the stem at sat them back down with the other berries. “How many times do i have to tell you? You can’t just disappear without telling me! What if someone needed you and you weren't where you were suppose to be?”

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(This post was last modified: May 04, 2016, 03:27 PM by Sylva.)

<3

Yet another mouthful of pineapple weed lay cradled within the beast's jaws as he made his way back to the medical den to store it. Overly prepared, there actually were several caches around the pack's territories of various herbs that might aid in anything that could go affect @Raela, from mild discomfort to outright emergencies. Gent had never before been so thankful for the rapid growth Spring brought on. Despite all of this anticipation, he was far from pessimistic. Anxious, yes, but in a good way. The nerves of today were far simpler than those he had suffered when leading the crumbling Crest, and overall he felt particularly carefree in comparison. Gent had thought that rising to stand at Minka's side had been the equivalent of finding calm waters, but it had only been the eye of the storm. This? This was the real thing, he just knew it.

Drawing closer, his ears picked up as he faintly began to hear Sylva's voice. By now, he had come to accept that she was overly imaginative and did just as much chattering alone as when in company. The fact of the matter was, she had proved herself useful and surprisingly adept as a student, and had yet to cause any trouble amongst the ranks nor outside of them. Really, that was all that he would ask. Perhaps in younger days he would have been concerned about the negative image that having members such as she amongst their ranks might project to others. Anymore, Gent was learning to simply live and let live.

Crawling into the den's space, he deposited the weeds he'd gathered onto the middle of the dirt floor, ready for Sylva to pick up and place wherever she pleased. Gent had thought himself well organized before, but the yearling took orderly to a whole new level. That it was a good thing, he was happy to allow her free reign over such matters.

"What's up?" he asked, more so to be friendly than anything else. Whatever she'd been tittering on about probably was quite useless for him to know, but asking didn't hurt and he had time to spare.

Sylva hadn’t realized that another wolf had entered the den during her scolding and she continued  on, her tail flicking against the bustle of Quailbrush and sending a few leaves fluttering off the pile “WHat’s up? What’s up? Is that all you have to say for your self? I swear you herbs will be the death of me.” She muttered as she started to turn, intending to have a talk with whatever he had spoken from behind when suddenly a small squeak escaped as she found herself muzzle to knee with a large furry  tree stu..oh it was just Gent.

“G-Gent sir!” The ebony yearling squeaked yet again as she backed up a few paces, her hazel gaze falling toward the ground in slight embarrassment until those eyes locked onto the weeds laying by the behemoth's paws and she quickly snatched them up and laid them onto one of the various piles of herbs that dotted the den “T-thank you sir.” She said as she turned back toward her mentor, a nervous grin overtaking her as she slowly realized that it may have been her teacher that had spoken “N-nothing much, just sorting the herbs sir.”

Usually, Sylva was much more forthwith and chatty, but right now the young girl was was somewhat stressed out with how the den was turning out. A casual observer may see nothing but neatly sorted piles of the various healing plants, but to Sylva, oh to her she could see that more sorting would be needed, so much more so that everything could be perfect, but every time she turned around MORE herbs seemed to have lept from pile to pile. The particular bold ones had gone as far as to entangle themselves within the fur of her tail, which she gently peeled away as she settled down before Gent.

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She replied, but it wasn't to him. Sylva continued her chattering with the plants as though his voice had come from them, and that disturbed the man. It was a little less innocent when the voices within her head were so vivid that she would mistake his for being one of them. He would have to be sure to inform @Raela of this, after he was done here.

Her muttering probably wouldn't stop, at least that was what precedent had taught him, and he would have moved to interrupt her had she not turned and startled herself into shutting up. The girl snapped to attention like a soldier caught goofing off, submissive in posture and diction. A brow quirked upward as he watched her, reclining into a seated position while she stored his gathered bounty with its kind. The stress she was holding inside of her was evident in her demeanor, and while he was reluctant to linger here too long, he felt that perhaps they needed to have a talk about more than just 'what was up.'

The decision to take Sylva in under their wings despite her quirks had already been made, and he wasn't about to half ass it now.

"Sylva, nevermind the plants for a minute. Sit still and tell me about what you're thinking."

He was probably opening the floodgates, but that was okay. He was becoming adept at sorting through all her unnecessary details to root out what was important.

There are several fresh rabbit tracks in the mud. Hunt Opportunity

Sylva kept mer muzzle pointed toward the ground, fully expecting a scolding from Gent for the unacceptable conditions of the den, herbs were neatly placed in various piles, but she had been trying to keep the fresher ones toward the back and the older ones that would need to either be used soon or tossed out for losing their potency and becoming ineffective, easily able to be told apart by their staler scent and the slight edges of wilting that had started to creep up upon a few leaves.

She opened her maw to justify and defend herself but it quickly with an audible snap as Gent asked what was bothering her instead of why a few of the staler leaves were mixed with the fresher ones, couldn’t he see how bad it was? She stared at him for a few moments as she thought it over. Sylva had been wanting to talk to Gent about her idea..why not now? But she’d need to go about it delicately and slowly./.she wouldn’t want to overwhelm the large brute “I’ve..been thinking….. How could we explain it? The meeting with @Karina had brought new questions to the girl’s mind but it had only enflamed her passion now “Well a few weeks ago when i had gone exploring, I had ended up on the mountain and I met this wolf, a silvery and white furred wolf with some black mixed into her fur, her eyes were a light blue color and she talked about a Mother of All and she um...well she said that I was gifted and blessed..Im not sure exactly what that means but it...it helped with something I have been wanting to talk to you about..a..a network sorta thing.. A way for healers to help each other and maybe even all the wolves so that we could all survive.”

She paused for just a moment so that her thoughts could recollect before she dove right back into it “Raela had mentioned that no matter what happens, wolves as a whole would always survive and I thought that this..could help us all survive…. She glanced away quickly upon finishing, it was out now, the young girl’s dream finally revealed after she had spent weeks thinking about it and how it could become a reality, her tail twitching slightly as she waited.

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She was clearly caught off-guard by his question, and he exercised will power in keeping a small frown off of his face. How much easier these conversation would be if he could only see through Sylva's skull at the thoughts swarming within. Even when asking as directly as he could manage, laying out the path in unignorable concrete, she seemed to hop the fence and go off on her own overgrown trail. Yet when it came to finding out more about the girl and how she worked, no matter how unexpected, nothing she said was actually irrelevant.

His ears picked up as she began a story, deeply descriptive as she recalled this other wolf that she had met. Immediately Gent began to search his memory, but failed to come up with any faces that matched. Except one. The ghost of a girl that had warned them about the boar at the Glen, young and thin and gone without a trace only moments later. Certainly she hadn't stuck around the mountains, had she? Gent was doubtful she could have lived through the remainder of the winter even if she had.

It was at the phrase 'mother of all' that Gent's ears swept back against his skull, annoyance flickering through his eyes. Another memory filtered through his mind, this time of Calanthe and her irrational fear of centipedes, built into her by the cult she'd been born into. Whoever this girl was that Sylva had met, the man was certain it was a similar situation. Nerves knotted within his stomach at what twist this conversation might take now that it was tainted with some fanciful religion. Sylva herself was exceptionally malleable, and he worried about the consequences of a stranger filling her head with the kind of nonsense that seemed to always sweep away those yearning to belong.

As she continued, however, her main point was surprisingly benign and practical. For Gent, this meant that the conversation had taken a severe divide into two very different branches and he felt pressure to be careful in how approached the first. So for now, he chose to tackle the idea that had merit.

"Are you talking about reaching out to other packs, and establishing open communication and trade with their herbalists?"

(This post was last modified: Oct 06, 2016, 02:51 PM by Sahalie. Edit Reason: There was a rogue bold tag )

“YES!”

The yearling suddenly yipped excitedly as Gent caught on to what she had been trying to say all along, he seemed to be getting better at figuring out what it was she tried to communicate through her torrent of words. Her tail thumped hard against the ground, sending the poor unfortunate clumps of Salmonberries flying off into a shadowy nook of the den. The girl calmed down after a few moments, the wave of excitement gone as she spoke, though she still vibrated with energy.

“Yes sir! I’ve been thinking about it for awhile now, There are so many packs in the area and yet little communication, I’m not saying we should go and build alliances with all fo them, but maybe, just maybe if there was some sort of agreement between the healers, we could help each other in times of need, getting herbs that only grow in saty, one pack’s territory, but another might need them for a sick wolf or something…” A small gasp escaped as Sylva’s brown gaze drifted away from the bulk of her mentor and caught sight of the missing berries, a small groan escaping as she mumbled “At least, if I could get everything to stay where I put it…

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