“Him... not like me.”
She may as well confess it now, in case Euphemia is expecting a willing patient. “Him may be take as betrayal.”
Iglux̂ had been so certain in dawnbreak, and somewhere between the pass and reaching the valley floor that certainty has thinned. She risks Cen thinking the same. Bringing an unfamiliar woman to tend his son's wounds so long ago closed.
But they weren't healed, and stubbornness has overridden the silver's complacency. She gazes beyond a shoulder at the healer, maw full of strong green roots, and pulls her lips apologetically. Crying wind knew these storms, has lived them. It hardly seems just to subject Euphemia to the tempers of lanzadoii men.
Lithe legs freeze up as she strides the groaning rocks and withering silence of the woods, pelt clinging thickly in winter dampness.
The air, after testing, tells her Caan is near.

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

---

Euphemia followed her friend through the brief expanse of north that lay between her land and theirs. A myriad of emotions blossom within her deepest gut. She wondered what Iglux thought of her homeland: she had never before introduced a friend to these lands. Tutors, yes. New members of the pack, for certain. But a friend? That was simply out of the question.

Her sisters were the only ones who had friends, and Euphemia had her herbs.

The maiden also wondered about this young man, who was to become her patient. In truth, Euphemia had never had a tried-and-true patient before. All of the bad things that had ever befallen her packmates occurred before she decided to re-devote herself to a positive application of her studies, and not the previous application, which simply caused her stress from the acknowledgment of her non-doing. He was unwilling, and she, a novice – it sounded like a recipe for disaster.

(but Euphemia rather liked a good disaster.)

She worked hard at the repetition of several mantras that spoke of her capability and intuitive nature, assuring herself that she would be able to handle the situation as it did not sound very dire. If anything, this was likely an introduction and opportunity to glean his health information. There were always resources to consult that were far more knowledgeable than she, if she felt it was out of her realm.

Her ability to ponder these things was made easier by the fact that she and her friend still did not speak the same language, and therefore the small talk between them was very little.

The few words that the northern woman did share with her, did not soothe her greatly. At that point, the only thing that kept Euphemia from having an entirely negative expectation was the fact that she too was a bit unwilling at times, and she could easily understand why this boy would want to keep this issue of his private. Perhaps he could perceive her empathy, and that would be the path towards a solution.

Euphemia also thought that it would have been better if she had brought a translator instead of the bundles of late summer herbs.

It’s okay, the waif affirmed her friend softly, keeping her words simple, wondering how fast she’d be able to learn the Saatsine language if she applied her keen mind to it. What’s his name?

---

The women would find their patient at his usual spot by the lake. This day the boy enjoyed an afternoon nap beneath a blanket of snow. His body coiled like a snake's, Caan's white tipped tail covered his nose as he dozed lightly.

The muted sound of distant voices drew his attention. This in itself was not unusual. Often did voices break into the air as the Sun Clan prepared their hunts. Caan's eyes cracked open, blinking in the harsh light that reflected off the winter snow. Groggily, his head lifted as he attuned to the waking world, a forepaw lifting to rub away the sleep that clung to his eyes. He could not make out the nature of the conversation that was underway, it was simply too far away, but the ground did not rumble with the surge of caribou hoof, so no hunt was immediately underway.

In that case, the teenager gave himself some leeway. There wasn't much to do in the winter aside from sleep in, anyway. The water would kill anyone who attempted to swim for leisure this time of year, and Caan was not a wolf that could be said to have many friends. Sure, he had his sister, but they were still learning each other. Nutu visited him less and less, she had to keep hold on Aivar's leash after all. Finally, his father was Chieftain. Cen simply did not have the time to spare to spend time idling away with his son.

So Caan simply rest his head against the snow, letting his eyes flutter close once more.