Tell me that you're alright

The freeze of the summer-turned-winter had finally abated, though it had led way straight into spring. While the temperatures had risen, it had barely been enough for any vegetation to grow and the soil was still much too damp from the thawed snow and seemingly constant rainfall. It made the world a sticky, muddy mess of which she wasn’t particularly fond of, but it wouldn’t stop her from trying to gather herbs to keep Ashen afloat.

Kiyo had set out from the palace in Inu Island via a boat paddled by her Macaque companion, Aoi, and tagged along by her akita companion, Yui. They’d crossed the inlet expanse of water to the shores of Time’s Cavern, where she’d instructed Aoi to return to the palace to aid her grandchildren in their daily studies if needed, then return for her when the sun was setting.

The ghostly woman set out with Yui, trekking up through Fern Gulley where they spent a few hours perusing and carefully bundling what few herbs she could find into the portable med kits strapped to both her and Yui’s backs. Once it felt picked relatively clean, they journeyed over to Algoma Prairie to see if there was anything else. More than likely, the prairie would prove useful for finding carpet moss. This could be bunched and used to stop bleeding, soaked in water and pressed to the lips to hydrate a bedridden patient, or to clean up a messy area. The uses felt endless, but the moss often dried out and was unusable after a week, so it was one herb that Kiyo picked quite frequently.

A light, smooth Japanese hymn in the form of a hum drew from her throat as she went, her tail, normally dragging along in a silver train behind her body but now tied up neatly with a bow to prevent it from dragging in the mud, twitched behind her light frame. As they crested a hill that overlooked the prairie, her nearly translucent gaze caught a fiery flash of color in the otherwise plain looking landscape. She squinted, trying to make out the object in the distance. Her gaze slid to her companion, who nodded to her, and they continued forward out of curiosity. As they drew closer, the shape of a wolf several inches taller than her, but not nearly the height of her son or grandchildren, began to take form.

He was quite the sight to see, cloaked in what looked like varying stages of molten lava. She’d never seen coloring quite like it, but then again she was sure others said the same about her shimmering, molten silver hues. She let loose a chuff of greeting, letting the man know of their approach so that he wouldn’t be startled. He looked slightly lost in what could have been revelry, a tinge of sadness touching the crease of his brow. How curious.