Siru had been making rounds all morning. There was a rather... shocking number of wolves who'd indulged in fermented berries just slightly too much the evening prior. It was almost amusing; perhaps it would've been, if it weren't for the sheer dullness in their eyes. Her heart ached; was it truly worth the excitement?

The Forest Maiden herself had never taken such copious amounts of substances. The idea of it scared her; she knew the dangers that the fermented fruits harbored—how much of a burden they're able to place upon the health of a wolf. To take a few could hardly cause problems, she supposed. Just enough to feel the warmth in her bosom and the buzz in the back of her mind. To be downright hammered...that was different.

Siru hummed softly, her tail swaying behind her as she traced the path along the treeline. She caught sight of Rhadmanthus—the familiar coat of deep ebony stuck out quite a bit against the vibrance of the meadow—and nearly subconsciously veered her path towards him and the packmate who seemed... unwell.

A few strides away, she halted. Her head tilted, her brows furrowed. There was an undeniable tug against her chest, aching to approach, to inspect his body to check for injury and illness; yet, she refrained.

She knew exactly what was wrong with him. She'd seen this very ailment too many damn times in the last few days.

Siru turned, gaze tracing the woodlands for something to help. There was a myriad of plants along these meadows; it was a relief. The she-wolf gingerly plucked a sprig of rosemary—perfect for headaches, and even for the grief that she knew Cupid had been experiencing following the loss of his children. A slow nod to herself, and she turned, approaching the cherub.

She nestled the herbs close to his face before stepping back once again. For headaches, she explained quietly. Lupine can help with your nausea, as well. But you must wait so that I can prepare the tea. She dipped her head.