Sᴀɢᴇʙʀᴜsʜ

From beneath the thick undergrowth emerges a sleek, black and white wolf. His paws seem to carry him determinedly, giving the air that he knows exactly where to go. In his teeth, he carries the stems and leaves of several plants. Each plant gives off a strong odor, mingling with the many green scents lingering on the wolf's coat.

Ducking beneath a low pine bough, Sagebrush the Herbalist sits down beside another pale wolf. Her breathing is unnatural and labored. With a quick snip, Sagebrush bites off the tip of one of the pungent plants he brought and passes it to the injured wolf. She sniffs it faintly and then takes a few bites. Sagebrush doesn't leave until she has eaten it all and her breathing lowers to the steady rhythm of sleep. 

The ghostly medicine wolf pants contentedly. He has full faith in the injured wolf's complete recovery.