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clear, warm spring day     Great Woodlands     Noon

AW but in the underworld, the past seems close behind

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stormbringer
Skjǫldrheim
Statistics
Species
wolf

Sex
amab (he/it)

Age
1 [9/23/2024]

Height
Tall

Weight
Light

Build
Athletic

Eyes
blue & gold; sectoral heterochromia

Fur
clash of night & day

Scent
mulled wine & leather

Oddities
chimerism, cowlicked fur

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#11
 
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Cloud Lash searched through her collection, her movements a mystery to him even if she could explain in Common. The ways of the healers were something he was often adjacent to, yet distanced from through ignorance. Trygve pressed closer, grasses sighing beneath his movement as he hovered near the mist-woman. The boy lowered its skull, trying to be unobtrusive for once as his gaze followed the woman's careful motions of her paws. The bundle smelled strongly - sharp, clean and grassy. I see. sápai; medicine. For the chest, perhaps, judging by the way her paw pressed to her sternum. He parroted the word back to her, tail-tip giving an excitable twitch side to side without his awareness. Sápai, He tried once more, rolling the word thoughtfully in his mouth. What about... The boy's expression scrunched up dramatically as he puzzled over how to ask his question. Medicine - sápai - for a wound? He lifted a paw, nosing at the short fur there to reveal a couple of the long-healed silver scars from his bumbling baby-teeth, criss-crossing the knuckles.

[Image: trygve-chirpeax.png]

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Banned
Banned
Statistics
Species
Northwestern wolf

Sex
Female (She/her)

Age
2

Height
Short

Weight
Light

Build
Slender

Eyes
Red

Fur
White tipped with black accents

Scent
Gooseberries & oats

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Bashful, reserved, timid.
#12
 
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her gaze met his only briefly, her pale eyes soft like the low mists that rolled into the valley at dawn. sápai, he said, and she gave a small nod, pleased, like a leaf shaking in quiet approval.
her slender paw moved again over the bundled herbs. careful, gentle. this time she selected a tighter coil, wrapped in old rivergrass and dry moss, and held it out so he could smell it. sharp, earthy. it held the scent of rot and bite and something else— something sweet. honeyed. she pointed to his paw next, where he nosed those old scars, and then to the bundle, then back to him. a gesture, clear enough.
nuvts'aya sápai, she offered, her voice feather-light. wound medicine.
then, as if sensing his deeper curiosity, cloud lash leaned closer. she did not touch him, but she brushed her muzzle just above his scarred paw, exhaling warm breath across the old hurts. it was not healing, but comfort. and that too was medicine.
when she drew back, she tapped the bundle of herbs lightly with her nose and gave a small smile, head tilted like a bird listening for roots beneath the soil. yes, she seemed to say. for wounds. this, she could share.
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