Mothwing's been spending a lot of time hunting lately, so yesterday she spent all day doing it, stocking up on fish for herself and Drosera. Today she wants to focus on her actual calling: medicine.

It's fairly deep into leafbare by now, so the herbs Mothwing has stored away are dried ones, harvested in the last gasp of leaf-fall. She carefully pulls out five herbs she wants to go over with Galahad: catmint, feverfew, horsetail, chamomile, and deathberries, the latter of which she carries gingerly in a leaf wrap. She arranges them into a half-circle on the ground.

She checks the position of the sun: it's almost sunhigh, when she's arranged to meet Galahad for their lesson. She wraps her tail around her paws and waits, enjoying the sunshine while it lasts.