While Acacius might not have been exactly successful in his attempt to heal Raven's eyesight, the young pup still felt he was improving in skill each and every day. When he was not out scavenging herbs he was mixing them together, boiling them, or testing them upon his porcupine companions. It was not exactly an easy career path, however, and with a few more days of failure his loyal companions came to him with an alternative. Talk therapy. A way to heal the mind without physically healing the body. It was an odd idea, but Acacius owed his porcupines all the knowledge he currently had, and if they suggested that he might want to try this other method of healing, the pup was all for giving it a solid chance.

He'd bothered Raven enough, and so Acacius went looking for a different patient for this experiment. Aiming to locate a different sibling this time, the pup wandered throughout the knolls. "Omeeeeeeen." He called out for his sister. "I've come to talk to you about feelings and stuff!"

Word Count: 179

When her brother came looking for her Omen was hard at work making herself some armor. Well, armor with a bite. She'd seen one of the grown ups wandering around with what looked like straps of leather lined with poky things wrapped around their legs and, thinking they were pretty badass, decided she needed some of her own. But heaven forbid she ask someone else to get them or make them for her! No, that wouldn't do. Omen decided if she was to have them she was going to have to make them for herself.

So, she lay in a nice sunny patch surrounded by strips of leather and lots of poky things to pick from. She had teeth, claws and bits of metal galore, but putting them all together was proving to be more of a challenge than she'd first thought. This was a more difficult task than she'd first thought which was 100% horse poo because how hard could running teeth through leather really be! To say she was frustrated was an understatement. It should have been easier and she didn't know how to reconcile that belief with her current predicament.

Omen looked up with a frustrated scowl as her brother ran up to her. "Feelings?" she asked in an offended tone. "I don't have any of those." She kicked aside a stupid strip of leather marred with a crooked line of teeth and nails before staring grumpily up at her brother.

WC: 246