❝𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬
𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐬❞
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 a healer has been dealt a horrible hand in life
and her nun sister wields a sword for a liv...
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⊰❃⊱
WITH THE SUCCESS of bringing Guthred back to Cumbraland and the whole process of anointing him King, Celise decided that she wanted to get some of her salves ready. With a knowledge for herbs, she went out early in the morning, gathering various flower petals and grasses, able to identify different plants as different herbs and bunching them together. In the makeshift tent that was made for her experiments, she hung some of the herbs up to dry from the morning dew. Humming a tune to herself, she begins the process of taking the honey she had gathered from a hive a little while ago as well as the goat's milk she had bought only two days prior to her little theatrical at a market. Boiling the goat's milk over a fire for a little, she added the honey, making a delectable smelling mixture.
It drew even the most excitable of people.
Myrna flung open the flaps of the tent, taking a long whiff of the air. Celise was unfazed. "Salve making today?"
"Indeed. Could you check if my herbs are dry?"
The young nun did so, running her fingers over the drying leaves. The heat from the fire helped. "They are dry and ready to crush. What are you making?"
"I am experimenting with a mixture for bruises and little cuts," Celise explained. "I'm trying to mix a number of herbs together with the goat's milk and honey, but I haven't gotten the balance right yet."
"Ooh, try it on me first." Myrna bounced in place, excited to be a test subject. "I'll willingly bruise myself for you."
Celise laughed. "Thank you, I suppose. But I'll have to bruise you twice, so I can check progress." She took the pot with the milk and honey off the fire, the steam rising and making Myrna sigh. She loved the smell of the mixtures Celise made. She often volunteered to be a subject of experimentation.
The smell of the drying herbs practically carried throughout camp, and Celise mixed the liquid in the pot, ladling some out into a separate bowl. "Myrna, can you sit me just three lavender flowers?"
Nodding, the brunette nun took the knife that was on the table, inspecting the best of the purple flowers before cutting them, handing the little purple blooms to the healer. Taking them between her own fingers, she gently poked at the bases of them until a little droplet of liquid showed itself. Squeezing the liquid into the bowl with the milk and honey, she smelled the gorgeous smell of lavender, and it made her smile.
