Sometimes these rugged and beautiful lands can be cruel to us. We were not long out on a hunt one evening when one of our companions injured their leg. Slipping on some loose mountain rock, my friend had cut their leg open. With horror we realized that they might not be able to safely make the trip home. I acted quickly, remembering the words of my nana, and tended the torn flesh with some moss and bound the wound with grass. We ALL made it home. That’s how I earned my name Wound Binder.

Sunny hue butterflies paint the skies.
Petal shaped wings dance on the flower tops.
Fly swift sweet monarch.