Conjuring up curses

It was hard to miss the rumours in a pack like the Armada, even if you did sequester yourself like a hermit on the fringes of the territory. Apparently after all the bullshit with Seer dragging back burnt corpses and telling the kids it was their mother and brother people were surprised when one of them ended up eating her feelings, it was a miracle the rest had kept their shit together at all, maybe they had a psychopath gene that stopped them from feeling feelings?

Trauma was trauma and if that was how the girl had chosen to deal with it, well, shit, it was relatable, and if Sedna had ever adjusted to the flavour of cooked meat, she probably would have done the same long ago, except, she preferred to hunt for her meals and eat them fresh. It was probably the only thing keeping her in the (admittedly, still already quite round) shape she was.

She had also heard the girl might be interested in learning about healing, and so, she had sent her ibis to round the child up (really she was a young woman now). As she waited, Otis with his little satchel, she considered where the best place to go might be. Maybe, she would even be better off just staying here and showing her some of the dried herbs she had saved? But that would hardly be any fun. Maybe they were best off heading to the mangroves to look for water plants and fungus? The moving water meant the water there would never quite freeze at least. Yes, that was where they would go.

When they girl finally arrived, Sedna arched an eyebrow and snorted. The rumour mill was, as usual, a useless source of information. “Dunno what all th’ fuss is about, yer fine, still got growin’ ter do.” She offered the girl a smile. “Feel up fer a trip ter th’ mangroves? I hear yer might be interested in learnin’ some healin?”

“Speech”