“I need a plate.” His words were muffled and jumbled with the sweet poultice in his mouth.
The women stared wide-eyed at Sartin. The room grew warm. Sartin turned around and spit the leaves out onto the offered dish.
“Thank you. Can I use this cup? I need to make a broth that she can drink.”
The mother, eyes still wide, nodded slowly.
Sartin wiped the cud from the plate into the cup. Maru rushed to his side with a utensil to stir the concoction. Memories of their night together burned through Sartin’s skin when they touched.
“You wake her and have her drink this. I might scare her.”
Sartin pushed himself out of the way and Akela took his place beside her bed. Sartin took another handful of leaves and chewed them to make a poultice for Nakina’s foot. Behind him, one or two of the women took a handful of healing plants and chomped on them as Sartin had.
“Nakina, wake up, my child.”
“I don’t feel good, mama.” Quiet and weak, Sartin barely heard the girl utter the words.