Gryph Parasite Pass

“I am not some delicate flower”

The mud from the swamp and her blood trail followed her through the forest.

“AGH!” Her ankle twisted in the fight and hurt to put pressure on but she persisted.

…

Upon arriving at her hobbit hole, she frantically approached her ingredient cabinet. “Yarrow, elderflower, no. Fuck. Where is it!? I don’t have time for this!” The frustration and worry we’re growing in her, along with the Gryph chicks, which could hatch within hours.

Pulling together, she consulted her alchemist’s almanac then dutifully went about crushing, sifting, then brewing the mix of mugwort and belladona. Within minutes her body was wracked. All around her the walls began to grow thin and the air around her hot with every exhalation. When the wind blew through the wind she felt a full gale unfurl onto her bareness. For hours she lay in that state of despondent anguish. But when she woke, the wound had healed, and her body made hers alone once more.

+1 Constitution