More of them come to me now. Word gets around somehow.
Or they just remember. The first one I ever treated was years ago, back when I was still sleeping in a tent and eating whatever I could trap. He had a gash across his shoulder that wasn't healing right, probably infected. I cleaned it, packed it with herbs, and he let me. Held still the whole time.
After that, they just kept coming.
I close the chest and stretch, back cracking, and the light through the window has shifted—midday now, maybe later. I should eat. Also check the drying rack. Also see if Nugget's gotten the dye out of her system yet or if I'm going to find pink chicken droppings everywhere tomorrow.
At least it will be colorful.
One thing at a time.
There's bread from yesterday and some dried meat, and I'm chewing through both when footsteps sound on the path.
Not trying to be quiet, which is good. Means it's probably—
"Mel!"
The door swings open and Kestria's standing there, grinning, a dead rabbit dangling from one hand.
"Brought you something." She stops.
Squints.
Why are you pink? And not the on-purpose kind of pink."
"Chicken got into the dye pot."
"Ah." She nods sagely. Everything explained. "Which one?"
"Nugget."
"The mean one with no tail?"
"That's her."
"Is Nugget pink now?"
"Very."
Kestria's face splits into a delighted grin. "I need to see this immediately."
"She's outside. Go look. Bring that rabbit in first, though."
She drops the rabbit on my table and practically runs back out the door, and her cackle carries through the open doorway a moment later.
"Mel! She's so pink!"
"I noticed!"
"She's glowing!"
"She's ruined."
Kestria reappears in the doorway, still laughing. "She tried to peck me. She's furious about being pink."
"She did it to herself."
"That's never stopped anyone from being furious." She throws herself into the other chair, still grinning. "Honestly, this is the best thing I've seen all week."
