(307) PP of slave, let me know if needs changing.
Draugr is by Despi!
Draugr regarded the door with some apprehension, but more excitement than anxiousness. There was a sound of motion and voices from within, and a moment or so later, a slave opened the door, indicating Draugr's invitation. The dark-hued wolfdog stepped past the slave and into the abode of her cousin and friend, quickening her step with the murmur of Imhotep's voice, followed by a louder beckoning for Draugr to hurry. The dark-hued wolfdog's face was a mask, impenetrable and betraying nothing of her emotions. She gave a smile to the pair, though she stepped forward quickly enough, setting down the leather bag she carried.
Fire, the wolfdog said, snapping the one-word command toward Novak. She had steeped meadowsweet and thyme in water, which she now pulled out. It could be consumed as it was, but the wolfdog thought the strong taste of the plant would be more palatable if warm. There was another weapon in her bag, albeit one she was loathe to bring out if Odessa recognized it. In the end, she brought out the dried pennyroyal leaves and set them atop her bag. Her friend's warning about the children being unable to come had been taken to heart -- while the leaves Draugr had procured on her own might hasten their coming, it was a gamble with their lives, too. Perhaps, though, it was a necessary one -- should the children be unable to escape the womb, mother and child both would perish. At least this last ditch would save Odessa, should things go wrong.
She surveyed the scene and looked over Odessa. Are you comfortable? Do you need to be propped up? the hybrid asked, wondering if Imhotep might then have to hold her, or perhaps they might fetch something -- a pillow, a cushion, anything -- to give her leverage.
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