A writing.

The autumn sun was hot on Una’s back as she picked her way through the tall grasses of the birch forest. Bright birdsong jumped between the tawny branches of the trees, and Una flicked her ears to better hear it. She saw a blueberry bush nestled among the grass, and she dove into the golden blades toward it, parting the way with her ash staff. She’d been feeling peckish the past couple of days, and since the Rut was coming she figured it might be a long time before she could eat blueberries again. Who knew what damage the stags might do to the forest in their quest for dominance?

Ah, the Rut. That would bring a lot of wounded stags to the healers’ doors. Una didn’t consider herself a true healer, but everyone who knew anything about healing would have to chip in. She lied down by the blueberry bush and began picking berries, dropping them into her cupped palm. The shard of obsidian that was wedged in the crescent shape of her staff glinted in the sunlight, as if reminding her that she could heal wounds as well as with magic as with herbs. Herbs. Una didn’t know how to use them. She remembered humans using them, of course, but it didn’t make sense to her. How could a leaf mend a broken bone? Cure a fever?

Looking around the sunlit forest, Una popped a few blueberries in her mouth. She moved her staff closer to her as she chewed, and placed it over her folded forelegs. Better. She always felt better when she was near her staff. Its magical strength soothed her nerves and was a protective presence in the nearly empty forest. Una sighed. The birdsong-edged silence was so peaceful, and to think it would be broken by the clashing of antlers!

She closed her eyes and tossed a few more berries in her mouth. How much could she help in healing wounded stags? Surely she would be drained after helping only a few. She was always so tired after performing magic. And if there were serious wounds…!

Una opened her dark eyes and looked down at her ashwood staff. The pale wood gleamed softly in polish made from its own sap, reassuring in its strength. Swallowing the last of the blueberries, the deerling nodded. She was ready.

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This originally started out as an intro to a roleplay for Una (I like to write it beforehand), but I thought it might be a little too Rut-oriented so now its a little writing blip. I found out that Una's staff has a kind of conscience and "communicates" with her. Or she imagines it. Either way, I'm discovering her character.