She had begun her training as a healer only recently and found that it gave her mind something to ponder on constantly as she traipsed through undergrowth, picking flowers off with her small teeth and depositing them into a makeshift bag made from seal hide. She hadn't killed the seal; they were far too bulky for her to slaughter alone. Ravenna had simply gotten lucky to find it's corpse washed up on the shore and peeled enough of the roughened material from the body to make her sun bleached bag, now stuffed full with the roots, stem, and flowers of the yellow plant Butterbur. It would go good in her stockpile of other herbs back in her makeshift den that now sported a concoction of scents from all her planning.
The day was growing hot quick though and the bag between her teeth was growing slick with her saliva as she padded, attempting to keep beneath the shade of the treeline. No breeze would save her from the might of mid-day summer and Ravenna could become incredibly grumpy if she grew too hot or too cold. It was in part due to her father's volatile nature, she knew, but no matter how much she
tried to make herself more friendly in her irritable moments, it was just too damn hard. She liked being alone and she hated being alone. She was a contrary creature, bullish in nature at times and sweet as sunshine at others. A mixture of both Warlow and Mistletoe, two very different beings brought together by fate and love.
Spending her time learning was a distraction from wondering where they had wandered off to. To being so bored and so torn that she felt trapped in life.
The rushing water of the fresh water river that flowed into the sea drew her inexorably closer and she hops from one large boulder to smaller rocks to get in a position where she is surrounded by glittering sunlight atop glistening water, setting her bag down right next to her and hunching down to lap eagerly at the cool water. As she sighs in contentment and lifts her head Ravenna freezes for a moment, those pale green-gray eyes staring at the still figure of a silver, black, and white boy.
Her heart gives a slow thud as if just awakening from her stupor and adrenaline seizes her. She grabs her bag and lunges across a wide gap in the river to another rock; it is a brazen action. For one not familiar with Glorall it could end in their death, succumbing to the undertow of the river if they missed the rock, but Ravenna trusted her instincts. Her bravado had never failed her and it wouldn't now as she lands upon the rocky and sandy beach that leads to the sea. She had no doubt that he had come down the river and she couldn't tell if he was awake but she didn't really care at the moment.
Laying the bag down sloppily she steps towards his head, leaning down to bite at his scruff and yanking him further out of the water and up the beach. He is not small and each yank by her is accompanied with a growl of frustration. Once she has him out of the water, whether he is awake or not, she moves to his belly and quite suddenly she lifts up and slams her front large paws into his chest. It is an attempt to push the water from his lungs - it wouldn't do any good to save him only to have him die of pneumonia later right?
Ravenna is unforgiving in her tasks; three times she does this, each time throwing her whole body weight into the punch and no doubt hurting him even more but also saving him. Then she steps back and looks down at his face before scanning down his body. He had a few lacerations from hitting rocks, but those would be okay once she could deal with his insides. She would make him bath in seawater if he lived.
"Wake up you buffoon," she screams suddenly into his face, an attempt to startle him awake if he wasn't already.
"Didn't you know now is not the time to be swimming in the damn river?" The words are growled in exasperation, as if this situation isn't dire even though she feels a sense of desperation looking down at his handsome - wait, did she say handsome? - face.
Ravenna