The backpack he carries is already half-full, various plants and herbs peeking out from the open pouch. Spicy, sweet, and bitter smells mix in a strange symphony that hasn't been tuned yet, each plant unrefined in its base form. Grimm rubs his nose, attempting to clear the scents that clog it as he searches for the subtle hint of fresh mint or the soothing smell of sweetgrass.
Even with Frey and Safrin's protection, the fall of Stormbreak has shaken many of the animals with softer dispositions. The blink hares haven't stopped jumping from enclosure to enclosure, the frost foxes are burrowing into anything they can find, and the humming bats sound like they're flying in turbulence with how much they've been shaking.
Despite grumbling about weakness and backbones, Grimm is here, searching for the plants Lena had taught him about, the ones that might help ease fears or tensions. His eyes scan the undergrowth, nose on alert. The movements of his body are somewhere between a stroll and a prowl, relaxed yet hunting for his prey, attentive to the life around him and how he moves through it.
Even with Frey and Safrin's protection, the fall of Stormbreak has shaken many of the animals with softer dispositions. The blink hares haven't stopped jumping from enclosure to enclosure, the frost foxes are burrowing into anything they can find, and the humming bats sound like they're flying in turbulence with how much they've been shaking.
Despite grumbling about weakness and backbones, Grimm is here, searching for the plants Lena had taught him about, the ones that might help ease fears or tensions. His eyes scan the undergrowth, nose on alert. The movements of his body are somewhere between a stroll and a prowl, relaxed yet hunting for his prey, attentive to the life around him and how he moves through it.
Grimm
Warriors don't show their heart until the axe reveals it.
