She stood facing the wind, smelling for herbs to gather, the breeze carried easily deep into her lungs and through her fur. Following the path the scent led her on she came upon a tree, her eyes and nose traveled up the roots and past the base of the tree until she noticed, above her head, great gashes that smelled bitter and stung her nose. Her fiery eyes shone as she focused on them, they were thick, deep, and glistened with the tree's blood. Her nose twitched, nostrils coaxing the scent to the roof of her mouth...she reared up and rested her forelegs onto the tree, she brought her muzzle close and tenderly licked at the gash, the sap stuck to her tongue and encouraged her to nose deeper and lap more eagerly, the scent and flavors of bark, claw, sap, and moss were all that existed to her in that moment.
