Fritjof was out traveling again. It seemed to be becoming a regular habit for him, despite his relief and gratitude for having a home. Maybe even the draw of a pack could not completely curb the wanderlust that lived within his soul, as dry and loveless as it might otherwise be. He had hesitated on the edge this morning, second guessing his intentions and the wisdom of his actions. It might be opprobrious to meet but not recognize one of the pack's enemies, perhaps talk kindly to them, or try to make a deal. But his original plan won out, so while he left with caution, he did not intend to ignore those he came across or avoid interaction. He would risk any ire he could draw to have a few questions answered.
Soon it smells as if he has stumbled across Shiloh, or one of the other healers in the tribe, judging by wolf scent masked with a spicy overlay. He sees a golden female, appearing to search and take mental notes, completely absorbed. He watches as she turns her nose up at Deadly Nightshade. Ah good, definitely a healer and not a poisoner. Even he recognizes that plant though he may never harvest elderberries due to his fear of still harvesting nightshade, as his experience with medicinal plants is minimal. Pretty much just to treat his own mild maladies while living alone.
"Hello" he starts, not wanting her to think he had crept up on her or meant her harm, so wanted to alert her to his presence. "Do you want a hand looking?" after all, two sets of eyes were better than one, and she could verify it was the correct berry once he had pointed out a likely suspect. "I'm Fritjof, by the way" he introduces himself, a bit belatedly. He observed she was pregnant, and hoped she had herself a pack, in case it was a difficult birth. He knew such things could go terribly wrong. Good thing she appeared practiced in the healing arts. |