Tied To What Is Late

Ragna scratched at her neck for a moment before carrying on with her projects. She reached into her travois and pulled out two ceramic bowls that had been wrapped in a deer hide. She put an ounce of the flowers in one bowl for tea and several other flowers in the other for the poultice. Taking a deer bone in her mouth, she titled her head so the balled end would mash the chamomile flowers for the tea and for the poultice. She worked back and forth between the bowls until she was satisfied. She made sure to mash the poultice flowers a bit more harshly. Setting the bone down she paused for a moment to watch Stjarna before deciding to strike up a little conversation. "I saw you and your siblings at the party. You all look remarkably alike as far as markings go." It had been rather amusing to see them altogether. No one in her old clan passed on such distinctive markings to so many litters. Or.. one giant litter? She wasn't quite sure what their circumstances were but if one femme gave birth to all of them in one go she certainly had Ragna's pity.