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Healer Rhea's POV

"What do you mean this isn't a good option, Fhesol's steams and needles offer enough of a reaction to the bodies—"

"You are thinking like a human Healer. We are dealing with a highly advanced and highly predatorial beast. It's a wonder how you even managed to get this past any wolf's nose. They should be able to detect it when it's in this stage. Goddess, you could've been killed." Rhea rolled her eyes at Lillian, but gulped when she caught just how enraged the witch had turned.

"Better than a breeder."
"And the rest of us? Or have you forgotten that you aren't working by yourself anymore? Damnit, Rhea, we need to talk about this sort of thing." It was difficult to hold her tongue, not to say something rather harsh or blunt that might hurt the witch. Granted, she hardly could think of anything awful of Lillian, but even now, she was distant from that sort of friendship.

"Then what will we talk about? That the King is going more sporadic with his beatings, that they're being secretive and continuously asking about how to get rid of the silver sickness. Isn't it clear what's happening? We don't have time to wait around and talk." Lillian hummed, but then began to wave the Fhesol as if it were a common house weed.

"This would make them sniffle. We need something that will stop their heart, we don't want the lingering effects—Fhesol only causes sickness in wolves, not death." Rhea bowed her head, realizing her excitement might have gotten the better of her, but honestly—It was nice to be corrected.

Not quoted on every word or phrase was acted as though it was a curing goldmine. There was never room for miscalculations, but perhaps that is what is making her lose her senses.

This wasn't her infirmary, her little cabin, or even the same pack. But the familiar faces were starting to become her weakness, and she knew the ultimate reason why.

She was starting to see these humans as her people, hers to claim. And perhaps it was absolutely suicidal to not care about herself, but she needed to up it—She needed to care about what happened to them in the midst of all this chaos.

The very thing she was about to create in this makeshift pack, right here from this tent.

That meant she needed to adapt.

"What do you recommend?" Rhea questioned something that hasn't happened since she was shadowing her mentor. "Osmin promised to share later tonight, he's been scouring around. Interrupted after the outburst at the docks." Rhea sighed, not realizing she's already dismantled a growing plan.

"I'm sorry," It wasn't like her to withhold a curse, but she didn't see the concern for her actions to make a chain reaction, so she promised outright to go over the plans before acting.

"Darling, you're fine. And for the record, Fhesol would have subdued the human population. Now, you've been lazy long enough, get these prepared for the next brew. This haul wasn't all for waste, these will be the perfect boost to keep whichever condition we manage to subdue them with." It did give her enough positive energy to get through the rest of the day, but as the moon had started to peek over the horizon, the true fun began.

It was Rhea's first experience in seeing how King Dreven celebrated the Full Moon's return—That he caught it as a blessing. Not the pack, as most would assume, but to himself.

The former Queen wasn't too familiar with the Wolven lore, but there was certainly a deity fixated on the moon and her will. But that did not mean that the diety with hundreds of children under her light would only consider one single wolf.

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