OOC: Set before the meeting

Kassander sat before the entrance to his den, simply staring outwards into the thicket blankly. Remy had made himself scarce within the den, but Rommel sat a short distance away watching Kassander with a troubled expression that the elderly wolf didn't take note of.

He'd been in so many packs in his life. Ebony, Olympus, Yfir, Ivory Ridge, Crew. He'd thought that this time it would be different. Abaven was the only pack from his childhood that still remained. It had seemed like it would stand the test of time. Now he stood to lose everything again, just as he was settling in and slowly getting to know his pack mates enough to be comfortable around them.

He was troubled. He couldn't leave Abaven. He was getting too old to live on his own in the middle of winter, even with Rommel to help. Rommel was no young cub himself, after all, and it wasn't fair to drag him away from a comfortable home out into the wilds again at his age. He didn't know any other packs well enough to go there directly, either, lest he end up in exactly the same position he was currently finding himself.

No, and he couldn't abandon the pack mates that he'd started to grow so fond of. Some would leave, undoubtedly, and he wished them well. But others? Others wanted to fight. Others needed protecting. Lark had children in the pack. There were yearlings to watch out for. No, for once in his life since Sigmarr had died defending him, Kassander needed to grow up and take responsibility. He needed to stand with them and act like the pack's healer instead of cowering and whinging like a pup. He'd been a king, once.

The gray-muzzled Xanilov finally blew out a deep breath, the air puffing in front of him in an atmosphere that had grown quite cold. Rommel straightened suddenly at the movement, not expecting it after sitting there for hours struggling with his own anxieties. Well, this mysterious "Abraxas" character hadn't yet made him or herself known to the rest of the pack, and Sparrow hadn't chosen to confide in him so if she had met him yet either he didn't know. If she chose to confide in any of them for that matter, Kassander wouldn't have known - he didn't know the dynamics between any of the wolves in this pack yet. He needed to remedy that. Now more than ever those bonds would need to be grown and nurtured. They needed to be stronger as a pack than ever before, or they'd be ripped apart like a warren of rabbits beneath the claws and teeth of hungry ferrets.

Quietly he turned to go down the tunnel to his extensive den system. He might need to expand again... maybe add some hidden tunnels. You could never plan too far ahead these days... Gathering a few bundles of dried herbs, his pestel, and a clay jar (he inspected it critically a moment to be sure it didn't have cracks), he returned to his position outside the den entrance to grind the herbs somewhere less stuffy than his den, which was literally stuffed with dried grasses, pine boughs, feathers, and moss to keep the winter winds at bay.

Wandering the territory was sort of boring when her brothers were off doing their own things. Eventually she'd spend more time in a den of her own when she got older and more grown up, but that sounded awfully lonely to Rhea. It was hard to imagine having a whole den to herself, although sometimes when her family was all off doing whatever it was they busied themselves with, she'd imagine having the family den to herself. It wasn't that fun, so today she'd decided to seek out some company to chase any loneliness away.

First she'd explored the plains for a bit, tromping through the thin layer of snow that covered the grass. It was nice because the snakes were less prevalent when it was so cold, but less ideal for finding someone to hang out with. She was still too small to see far, and it didn't seem like anybody was there anyway. So she'd returned to the thicket and gotten lost on a few new trails she found - how had she still not found them all?  - before finally spotting a man she'd seen at meetings before. Smiling a tentative but still friendly smile, the girl approached.

Whatever he was working on looked pretty interesting; he had an assortment of objects and herbs out before him, which was something she hadn't seen much before. Neither of her parents were healers. "Hello there," she called, stopping just shy of normal speaking range, suddenly finding herself uncertain whether the man might want her bothering him. After a moments pause, she'd grow curious enough to ask, "What is it that you're doing?"

The sound of pawsteps and a small body pushing through vegetation caused Kassander to glance up sharply from his work, only to see a young pup watching. "Hello," he returned her greeting quietly, continuing to work on the herbs with easy, efficient motions. This must be one of Lark's children - she looked very much like Lilliana, from the few times he had seen the woman at meetings. The pup seemed quite interested in what he was doing, though she hung back shyly, and Kassander's heart went out to her. He'd been in her place once upon a time, when he'd been a pup in Ebony and had watched his first mentor Elsa preparing herbs. Many years and a great deal of experimentation brought him from there to here, but without her gentle encouragement he might never have made those first steps.

He stopped grinding and lifted the stone, still strapped to his paw so it moved easily along with him, and tilted the bowl-shaped stone towards her to show her the ground herbs. "I'm grinding catnip. Would you like to watch?" It was hardly the most exciting herb, but a useful one at any time and likely more so now than ever, but more importantly, it was also a safe herb to introduce to a possible budding healer. It would do no harm to breath in the dust or taste it, and in fact might do a bit of good. The peppermint and chamomile awaiting their turn in the pestle were similarly common, useful, and safe, if a little bland for a more adventure seeking pup.

The man greeted her in the soft voice she somewhat expected of a focused and busy healer. Whatever he was doing there seemed pretty interesting. She knew some wolves, like her aunt Sparrow, were healers and used herbs to make the sick or injured feel better but she'd never watched them at work until now.

When the man invited her to come watch Rhea's large pupish ears pricked forward, tail swinging by her haunches a few times as she asked timidly, "You're sure you don't mind?" For another moment she'd hang back regardless, but soon her interest was too great to allow her to hang back any longer, so she'd pad closer and take a seat near the steadily working healer. Sparks of interest continued to flash in her eyes as she observed quietly for a bit.

Once or twice she thought of questions but held back from asking until she could wait no longer. "Why do you grind it? Did you make the thing you grind it with?" It didn't look like a normal stone that he used to crush the plant, he he'd have made it she couldn't guess but something told her the object was different and she wanted to know why, and what made it necessary to use.