Nostalgia

Caedes maintained his usual stoic demeanor as he observed Sephiran's reaction, his expression revealing little as his cousin's thoughts delved into the past. The tale of Daedalus, the broken healer whose actions had inflicted unimaginable pain upon Caedes in his youth, was a well-known one among their kin. The memories of Caedes's suffering at the hands of his father lingered like a persistent ache, etched into the oldest scars on his worn hide. With a furrowed brow, Caedes tore his gaze away from Sephiran and back to the toxic plant before him. It was an unspoken truth: Caedes had risen above the broken soul that Astrid had once nursed back to health in her den. He had transformed himself into a formidable fighter and a skilled healer, driven by a determination to prove himself more than his own troubled past. Even as his spine tickled with Sephiran's gaze – the other brute’s mind undoubtedly dancing with fleeting shadows of paranoia, Caedes remained resolute, his purpose unwavering.

Returning his focus to the Jimson Weed, Caedes inspected it with meticulous care, ensuring it was free of parasites or withered leaves. Satisfied, he wrapped it back up in the cloth and carefully placed it with his jaws into the clay pot on standby, taking care to protect it from damage. He ensured it would not break, but bend with his method of collection. A moment passed before the brute retrieved a new item from his bag. A small bottle of water, carefully poured a few drops within the pot, dampening the wrapping that kept the Jimson Weed. With precise movements he then fashioned a makeshift lid from a large leaf and a strand of horsetail from his bag to preserve its potency. Hell’s Bells. What a find. The psychoactive herb was a very toxic one too, and he grinned with the knowledge that he had quite the beginnings of a collection of deadly proportions.

As Sephiran acknowledged his reasoning and offered him the opportunity to advance within the pack, Caedes nodded in acknowledgment. "Sephiran," He replied, his voice measured and respectful, albeit detached as usual. "I will earn my place and prove my worth, whether through the shedding of blood or the mastery of my craft." With Sephiran's words echoing in his mind, Caedes meticulously packed up his belongings, his focus unwavering as he completed the task with skillful precision.