You Say Stubborn, I Say Thorough

When she'd finally learned of Resin's condition her heart weighed down with heaviness. Having been reared in a war zone she'd been trained in conditions of the body more so than the mind. Battle wounds were her specialty, but that didn't mean she was going to give up… not yet. She had ruled out the possibility of viral encephalitis and ergot poisoning. There were no signs of bacterial or fungal infection. That left two options coming to her mind, brain cancer or a neurodegenerative disease. Both were death sentences and beyond her ability to heal.

She reached out to the tincture of valerian root, tapping it lightly with her claws to test the color and potency. As far as she knew Resin was still behaving unpredictably, violently. Valerian in high concentrations was powerful. She had used it to drug patients into a stupor for surgery. It could sedate the woman enough that maybe she could have some sort of conversation to assess the level of damage. In low continuous doses it might even help to prevent another violent spell from arising. Lúta sighed. However, even if it worked Resin would be listless and slow. An effort to treat symptoms and maybe buy some time for meaningful goodbyes before the inevitable.

Lúta moved the tincture aside to cool. Yet, so much depended on how much damage had already been done. The sudden severity of the onset was of particular concern. She sat oblivious outside her den, deep in thought as she stared into the swirling tincture.