Word Count » --
As usual, it was the ever-present need to gather plants before the first frost that drove Enkiel from the Guest House. He had little desire to socialize, little need for company (Sa’adat and Talitha’s children were more than enough) and duty to Ezekiel remained present. The horses’ feet required constant treatment, but they were slowly healing. This at least was progress…even though it sapped his supplies. A massive animal like Viggo required far more herbs than a coyote.
Talitha’s summons pulled him away from his task, though he went only once he had finished digging up the roots. Silent steps carried him towards the source, and upon arrival he frowned. There were two other with her; a child and a girl about as old as Ezekiel’s wolf-cub. As he sorted through his bag his dark ears remained perked and high. Only once the leader concluded did the jackal put his satchel to the side. Symera, Halo’s ward, was the first to speak.
“Earth looks strange if it has been turned,” he explained, kneeling. With one sharp-clawed hand he dug into the soil. It was patted back down, displaying visually what Enkiel understood. After all, he had done so himself on more than one occasion. “We should be careful,” the healer added. “The horse was badly wounded.”
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