**This piece contains BDSM Master/Slave sexual dynamics that are reflected throughout the piece**

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Piercing calls of cliffshrieks signaled that the day was beginning. She stretched and shook her body before looking around her. Their meager camp lay in the hollow at the base of one of the towering spires. They’d need to move soon. Couldn’t stay too long in one place. Shifting brought her attention to her Gem, still sleeping in the makeshift nest. The gray morning light was enough to bring out the iridescence in her coat. Every breath glittered across her. 

More deafening calls above as half the cliffshrieks took off in a cloud of wings. That was her cue to head towards the stream. Anenome had to pull her gaze from her Gem with some effort. She grabbed one of the empty water pots to bring with her. With a deep inhale, she set off. The stream wasn’t too far away, but the slope down was littered with rocks. And these rocks were coated in slick moss and algae. 

Anenome hissed out curses as she slipped and rocks shifted under weight. _Ugh, why’d it have to fucking rain last night. It’s the_ dry _season. So why isn’t it fucking dry?!_ She thought as she slipped for the umpteenth time that morning. _Fucking Anti’s ass, that one got me,_ her palm stung where a sharp stone sliced her. _Going to need to treat that when I get back, and take the time to wash away the blood_. She let out a rattling sigh at the thought of more work, ending it with a whispered string of curses.

By the time she reached the stream her irritation was at an all time high. She angrily sat on the rough bank with one arm in the water, letting the water wash away the blood. Upstream was the pot on its side in a hollow she made to fill it. Rocks were around it to keep it from being pushed towards her. _Fucking stupid rocks. You’d think with all this rain they’d be smoother_._ But no, sharp as a fucking blade._ Her ears twitched in annoyance. 

Once her palm stopped bleeding, she hauled the water jug up the slope to where she cut herself to wash the blood down towards the stream. To her great annoyance it took several trips. If she didn’t have to worry about scaring dinner away, she would’ve been shouting. _Can’t do that, might wake up my Treasure, and I’m not ready for her to be awake yet._ Grinding her tusks, she cut off the string of curses that threatened to leave her mouth. One final time for that day, hopefully, she hauled the water jug back up the slope towards camp.

She grabbed her Gem’s water bowl and set it out, filling it with water. _Can’t have her dehydrated_. With that, Anenome tapped her Treasure’s shoulder to wake her. Within seconds she was stretching and yawning, already reaching for the water bowl to drink. After slaking her thirst she looked at Anenome with a question in her eyes.

“Permission granted,” she said.

“When are we going to eat?” her Treasure asked.

“Not yet, need to treat my palm first,” she replied. 

Without being told her Gem walked up and held out her paw to inspect Anenome’s wound.

“This will need treatment to prevent infection, Mistress,” she said, not meeting her eyes.

“Is it here?” she asked. 

Her Treasure shook her head, “No, we’ll need to find the plants. Nothing we have here will be enough on their own.”

Anenome held in the sigh that threatened to come out. _Baskets, need baskets_. She turned away from her pet to rummage around under the tarps until she found the baskets and straps. With a gesture her Treasure stood up to have the straps placed on her. With a second command she tightened them so they wouldn’t slip while Anenome did her own straps. After that was done her Gem stood perfectly still while she attached the baskets. 

“Trees that herbs grow under and on are on the other side of the stream,” her Gem said. 

There was a hint of _something_ in her voice. Anenome narrowed her eyes. They picked their way down the rocky slope. Her Gem gracefully moved along the rocks as if they weren’t covered in slime. She tried to mimic the way the other moved, but her body didn’t quite allow it. Frustrating. They crossed the stream,and here she let her Gem take the lead. She didn’t know the first thing about plants, what was useful, what was dangerous. She thanked her lucky stars that her Treasure did. 

Otherwise they were both fucked.

Further into the trees the light became faint dapples. Mud squelched between her toes unpleasantly, and renewed the stinging on her palm. _Better not get an infection from this shit. Ugh. If I didn’t need to come with her I would've stayed back in camp._ Ahead of her, she saw her Treasure stop, with a smirk on her face.

“Up the tree, I see some of the plants you need,” she said, her tone holding a note of defiance. 

“Up,” growled Anenome, not liking the Brat’s tone.

The Brat simply sat, and proceeded to start preening her tail. Her eyes glinted with Mischief. Anenome didn’t have time for her to be bratty. She could be getting an infection _right now_ from standing in this disgusting mud. She got up to nip the Brat on her side, but got empty air. A thud above her pulled her eyes up. The brat had leaped towards one of the lower branches and was perched like an Imp, grinning with Mischief.

“Awww, don’t be so snippy Mistress, I’ll get them for you,” she said, and climbed towards where the trunk split. 

Anenome squinted trying to make out what the Brat saw. _Did she really see them, or am I going to have to drag her out of the fucking tree?_ Her question was answered when the Brat gracefully jumped down, pungent herbs in one basket. She swatted the Brat’s shoulder for her attitude.

“_Fiiiine_, there’s more plants at the other fan-leaf. I’ll go get them,” and with a brisk trot the Brat did as was expected.

This time, she went up the tree with nothing more than saucy tail lashing. At least it was pretty to watch. Anenome chuckled, holding her palm off the ground. Birds took off as the Brat reached the spot. Concern wormed its way into her head. _I hope there’s no one nearby to notice, or if they do, don’t think anything of it. It wouldn’t do for us to be found out._ A _thump_ brought her back to the present. Proudly strutting was the Brat, more plants in the basket. Surely more than she needed at the moment. But, she never told the brat to get _just_ enough for treating the wound. _Sigh_. 

“There’s one more plant to make the poultice. It grows near slow moving water, so we’ll need to go downstream, Mistress,” the Brat said, chipper.

“How far?” Anenome asked.

The Brat paused for a moment to think, “where the water pool around the bend. There should be some around there on the outside edge.”

She sighed. More walking. 

The trek was already leaving her fur more green and brown than white and pink. _Utterly disgraceful_ she chastised herself. The Brat said they should walk in the stream, to help clear anything out in her palm, and to help cover their trail. Anenome couldn’t disagree with that. _At least I’ll get to admire her tail swaying_.

Sure enough, once they reached the bend the plants were there, growing in the thick wet mud scattered with rocks. Anenome sent the Brat to grab the plants while she waited in the knee deep water. She retrieved the plants without a bratty comment. Good. _Maybe we can risk a fire so I can get my fur dry_, she wondered. They walked back up stream in the water. For such a small body of water, it sure pushed hard against them. 

Her legs were screaming in exhaustion by the time they reached camp. It took every ounce of self control to keep her legs from shaking. Much to her annoyance, the Brat didn’t seem winded at all. Chipper, even, at the exercise. She kept her injured palm off the ground while the other kadin got to work. Anemone watched, trying to remember the preparation and process of making the paste. _Just in case_. The Brat worked without a word, moving in a trance-like state. She pulled a small pot out and hung it above the coal pit. 

“Fire would be too risky while there’s daylight,” Anemone said, curtly.

The Brat just looked at her, and she sighed, “Permission granted.”

“To activate the healing properties in one of the herbs, it needs to be blanched after grinding,” said her Treasure. 

Anemone hated that she didn’t know more about living off the land.It put her at a disadvantage. She merely nodded her head in permission. _At least the fire will help get my fur dry,_ she thought grumpily, heaving a sigh. Her Treasure got the fire going, and pulled some wood out that she didn’t remember bringing in, and realized she must’ve grabbed it while getting the herbs. She was about to speak when she noticed the wood was burning with very little smoke. Curiosity got the better of her.

“What kind of wood is that?” she asked, standing up and inspecting the remaining pieces.

“I don’t know the name, Mistress, I just know that it burns cleanly with little smoke. But it burns very quickly, and very hot. I saw it while up in the trees,” her treasure said, anticipating the next question.

“Next time we move camp, show me where you can find it, never know when it could come in handy. You did good today my Gem,” she purred that last line out. It got the desired effect when her Gem let out a whole body shiver, feathers and fur standing upright.

Anemone had to bite her tongue when her Treasure used what little salt they had in the paste. _There has to be a reason it’s being used,_ she reminded herself. The paste was ready shortly after, and with the utmost care her Treasure applied it to the cut on her palm. It stung, and smelled like astringent sea water. The rest of the paste her Treasure carefully packed into a clay pot and tied the lid shut. 

“How long will it keep?” Anemone questioned.

“As long as it doesn’t dry out, a couple weeks, Mistress. If we had rendered animal fat, or hard oils, it would keep longer. The oils would also be more even in the paste and it would hold to wounds better,” her Treasure said, eyes to the ground. 

A cliffshriek sounded above them.