every rose has its thorn

Siren didn’t leave the island very much, but with the almost summer like temperatures the girl had taken advantage of the warmth to gather herbs. She was no master healer but she was self teaching and learning as she went. There were things she knew a lot about and others that she needed help with. Cicero taught her quite a bit, but she needed a real teacher. Her mind strayed too far, she was content with her current level of skill. She could make do because she didn’t want to disrupt the balance. Their island was peaceful and quiet, she could even endure Viper’s proximity. That was easy when she had Dalila taking care of her. Siren wasn’t sure that there could be a more perfect fit for her. The woman was smart, hard working, and she obviously cared about Siren. A quality Siren was beginning to share. How could she not when they spent all of their days together?

The thought of Dalila waiting on her to get home so she could brush her brought a smirk to Siren’s pale features as she picked her way through the brambles. Siren continued to skirt disaster as she frequented bramble thickets. The thorns liked to drag through her long coat and stick in her fur but the game trails here were easily traversed. She hoped to find some rarer herbs where other wolves couldn’t get so easily. The small tunnels in the brambles and they ill frequented areas were where Siren spent most of her time. The day was spent gathering and clipping alone, like much of her life was beyond Dalila.

She had no friends or confidants beyond the mottled woman, Siren wasn’t complaining. She also had Chimera, the wolf she could always rely on to be there for her, but they didn’t have much in common. She was content with her lot, protected by Chi and loved by Dalila. Spending her quiet afternoons gathering herbs in the dappled sunlight alone. Birds sang in the foliage above, and Siren felt at ease. The briars were so much like her island home. The girl continued, dainty paws carried her over well worn trails to a small clearing. There was a small stream and a fresh moss blanket, a perfect place to rest. Siren relaxed next to the stream, her long fur cascaded over the mossy stones and her pack rested by a small tree that shaded the grove. She crossed her paws and lowered her head over top of them like a proper princess, deciding she deserved a small nap during the lazy afternoon.