"Thistle socks, witten-low, carmamona flour and a cinder rose." Young lady Wittmy murmured as she checked the contents of the basket. "Thank the spirits you were sent." She turned to her eldest daughter and instructed, "They are to be brewed as a tea, filtered through the cinder rose and drank on empty a stomach."
The girl nodded and rushed inside to prepare the tea.
"How can we ever thank you?"
Gemla brushed off any payment. "Just be sure your son gets well."
After the family returned inside, Gemla hung around. She wasn't sure why, but her eyes were trained on the candle lit room. She hoped it wasn't too late.
She contemplated returning to the inn, for the night grew cold and the winds were still wild. Atleast the rains had stopped and the threat of the tornado long gone.
Instead of returning to the inn, she slipped into a wooded grove just outside the small town and sat beneath a large oak tree. She hadn't the extra money to spare for a room and sleeping beneath the stars was just as well. Come morning, she'd check on the family... then perhaps that night... watch a gnoll sing.