The healer could often be found in her garden, to which she had tendered to over the course of Spring. It was flowering well come summer, through some of her herbs had begun to wilt in the greater heat. If she wasn’t there, she was in her den, which lay nearby. The burrow was larger than an average den, stocked well with shelving and jars, and herbs in different states of drying or preserving.
She had slowly enlarged the den and grown her stock over the seasons she had been a member of Kesali. The studious healer was, today, mixing her oils as she tested preservatives, creating a different mixture for the same herb, which she spread out across a half dozen different packets. She would know in a season which preservative was the better, and was greatly interested in seeing the results.
The day slowly progressed, though she did not mark its passing. She was much too engrossed in the job, and was an oily mess by the time she sealed her last jar and took a step back. She gave a satisfied look over the self that was made up entirely of experiments, before wondering out of her den and to the stream that was located very near her den. It was here that her herbs had access to irrigation after all.
She cleaned her paws in the stream, using a soap she had created herself to scruff free the oily substance.
