It had never been the healer's fault. Not the accidental fall that had carved a new gash in Tama's already-sensitive right foreleg; not the long, restless nights spent pressing herbs into a wound under the shade of a seaside mountain; not the unsteady journey back to Tama's pack; and certainly not the dismay that had taken the young Alpha over upon learning her closest companion had left without a trace. If that girl had been smart she would have pinned Tama down to the ground and waited for every sign of injury to pass. But the second Tama had found herself able to balance adequately on all four legs, to run short distances, she had passed the baton to an older, more experienced pack mate and disappeared into the night, scar and pain and all.
Luck had kept Kratha's scent detectable and her leg mostly functional and her belly somewhat full; it carried her all the way from Gnarled Oaks to this thick-spaced wood. Golden afternoon light carved pathways for Tama to follow and she did so gladly, her nose twitching. She had pushed herself too hard the previous day; her leg was throbbing again, and she had moved from an awkward four-step to a full-blown hobble. The dull ache of her belly was a secondary pain, one that could be soothed after some rest.
Tama found it in the roots of a particularly large pine tree. It was nothing compared to the monstrous Oaks she had left behind, but it was comfort enough. It smelled safe enough for her to lower her head and close her eyes, just for a moment.