Tremors et Tree Murmurs [Closed - Dorothy]

[attr="class","sun"]They Ought To

Believe In Themselves

Cruncher mouthed thanks towards the sun once more before finishing her morning routine; the splendid tree homes of Solarisclan would be impossible if the plants did not receive illumination and strength from above to grow bright and strong themselves; high quality examples to live by, she smiled to herself. Drying her hands off over a round wooden wash basin, Cruncher eyed a wall-affixed list of today's tasks, compiled two nights in advance. The regular follow-ups, pouty for having to vacate the top of the list, yet remained above the medical inventory-taking and gardening duties. In place of the traditional, first-priority patient follow-ups was a timely matter, examining those who had reported a strange sensation not shared by most of the clan. At worst, it was a strange weapon of sorts, borne of natural danger or perhaps of anthropogenic malice-- regardless, tending to the affected existed independently, at least for now, of finding the cause. Much of the events of that day has escaped Cruncher as she spent sunrise to sunset bed-ridden, recovering from nearly a week of non-stop mending, using her own tricks and tools of the trade which, if one knew her well enough, were always tiring to have to use; but such was her commitment to those committed to the same goddess she was.

Stepping out of her own home, she placed her signature white coat overshoulder-- to be donned when the patient is actually able to see me, she thought to herself. Clanspeople, bless their hearts, tended to worry when they saw Cruncher walk somewhere with her white coat on; some worried she was headed to break the worst of news to someone's loved ones. Generally, the phenomena didn't fuss her much but, with the heightened tensions everyone seemed to be suffering under, any little thing they didn't need to worry about was welcomed subconsciously, hence her shouldering her coat.

The hunter homes tended to, in her opinion, always have the most appetizing smells wafting out from them around any and all mealtimes. Someone, judging from the warm aroma enticing Cruncher, must have been making a lovely breakfast scramble of sorts just nearby. Her patient this morning however would be certainly excused if they couldn't make breakfast as early as the hunters usually did; they'd been rather shaken up by this mystery feeling, according to the provided notes. Oh, Snowflake... thought Cruncher.

"Hello, hello. First name Snow, last name Flake, are you home?" she asked lightheartedly, twirling her coat onto herself after knocking on the door of the tree home. "It's Mender Sunshore." In years past, introducing herself as Mender Cruncher had only received inadvertent giggles and smirks so she'd opted to say Mender Sunshore whenever needed.