Riverglade narrowed her eyes, studying the the pegasi Gingeroot said were her guards. There were two bay appaloosa stallions, and the red dun skyherder Aspenglade. She studied them, searching for any weaknesses she could use to help her escape.

"That's Strikestorm," The medicine mare said, indicating the bay blanket appaloosa stallion with light yellowish-green feathers.

"Rockwind," She continued, pointing to the heavily spotted dark bay appaloosa stallion with royal blue feathers.

"And Aspenglade." She finished. Aspenglade was the red dun skyherder with coral feathers and a thin blaze. Riverglade noticed she looked extremely bored.

"Now, Riverglade, I need to treat your wounds. From what I heard from Mooncloud, and by the state of you injuries, it appears you fought much harder than your friend." Gingeroot said. "If you follow me into my medicine cave, I can treat you."

But Riverglade was stubborn, and prideful. She wouldn't accept help from the enemy. She rattled her feathers. "No. I can get help once I'm back in Canyon Herd."

"Well, we don't know how long that's going to take. It could take a moon, a few days, a couple of hours. But we can't have your wounds getting infected. Especially because it's in your wings. If it gets infected, it could spread through the wing, and cripple them." Gingeroot reasoned.

The filly huffed, annoyed. "Fine."

"Let's go to my medicine cave. All my medicine stores are in there, and I can treat you there." She started walking north, to a large hilly area with a bunch of caves carved into it. "Riverglade reluctantly followed, her guards closely behind.

There was a huge lake to their right, surrounded by dirt and dry grass. Riverglade remembered her father saying something about having dry and hot grazing lands. It reminded her of the substance that the tame pegasi called Kihlari ate called hay. She was always bewildered by the stories the elders told of the Kihlari.

They entered a large cave. There were piles of herbs, berries, fruit, and bark on the floor, and stones of different sizes, shapes, and textures. Riverglade assumed they were for grinding and mixing poultices.

"Wait here," Gingeroot said. Then she trotted out of the cave.

Naturally, Riverglade wanted to explore. But seeing as she was injured, and was being closelyy guarded, she decided against it.

Gingeroot reentered the cave, this time carrying water cupped in her wings. She gave Riverglade a piece of willow bark and instructed her to chew on it. "Why?" Riverglade asked.

"For the pain." Gingeroot answered.

Riverglade snorted. "I'll be fine."

"Trust me. You'll need it."

She grudgingly took the bark in her mouth, grimacing at the woody taste and dry texture. Gingeroot cleaned her wounds with the water. She was not kidding when she said she needed the bark! Her wings were throbbing uncontrollably, and were stinging like mad. Gingeroot then dried the wounds with a large leaf, then left to prepare the poultices. She came trotting back after a few minutes.

First she applied a thin layer of a light green paste on it, explaining it was to help cool down the stinging, and prevent infection. It smelled minty. Then she put a chunky, reddish brown paste on top, and spread a foul smelling dark green paste around it. "To keep the bugs away." She explained.

And then they heard wingbeats.