prenatal vitamins and gossip!
Their daily check-ins had become sacred time for Lucretia. Watching Deathbelle grow, day by day, was an exquisite experience. It had her kicking herself for lack of an apprentice; this was the kind of teachable moment that led to prodigal abilities. Alas, it was hers to enjoy alone. Banshee, even if she was interested in apprenticing, was far too young to be able to accompany her to these meetings. The privacy she shared with the Empress, though, did have its own benefits. It allowed the sisters a chance to share their future hopes for the pack, commiserate over their siblings and how they were adjusting, and a safe space to vent their frustrations.
Luce was deep in her den tending to an injured owl around the time Deathbelle usually arrived. Typically the shaman was prepared with measured honey tonics in small gourds and a small sampling of other herbs and berries for Deathbelle to peruse while they spoke, but she had become engrossed in an elaborate wing splint. Bones fascinated Luce, particularly their resilience. It was surprising what you could break and then mend. The bird had been dosed with a mild sedative, making it easier to work with. Many expert healers she had known in her time worked closely with more handy creatures - monkeys of various sizes, or other small companions that had abilities outside of a wolf's scope. Cursing herself as she tried to straighten and tighten the splint once more, Lucretia resolved to locate one such creature for herself. |
