Concerning Mint and Druids
07-31-2013, 10:58 AM
Cut me loose
My parachute won't let me fall Don't be afraid of a chance for a miracle
It seemed that each of the two conversing wolves had an infectious energy to match the others. Orica was excited to here that this newcomer was a healer like her! It invoked a sort of kinship that Orica hadn't looked for. It made total sense, really, all the other healers she'd met or known were related to her, either an uncle or an aunt - but there was more than that. When you met a healer, you automatically knew that there was something good and pleasant and helpful at their core. If this male was a healer - perhaps he'd have something to teach her. Perhaps they'd have something to teach eachother! He introduced himself as Cael, and Orica almost blushed remembering her own manners. She bobbed her head and her shoulders together - the wolf form of a little curtsy. "My name is Orica Sir Cael," said the girl, looking up with road blue crystal eyes. "And it's very nice to meet you too!" His question about the clover had her glancing back at her bag again. The lovely sea of puprle and green that they stood in was quite lovely. And the plant itself was rather common, but Orica's pack tendered to prefer the more extreme regions. "Well my family travels around quite a bit," she explained gently. "And actually my original home was the far north, so it's hard for me to take even common herbs for granted." She grinned. "I like to have a stash on hand just in case I find someone who needs help." But her voice was suddenly interrupted by a gasp. "Oh and how rude of me! I forgot! Cael, this is my cousin, Cross." She pointed with her soft sooty nose just over her shoulder at the mound of white fur sitting on the stone island. "He doesn't talk too much, but he's very nice." |
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