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37. Healer's Faith

The unsettling silence of the healing room was broken only by the soft whispers of healers attending to the wounded. The air was thick with tension, tinged with the faint scent of medicinal herbs and the pervasive, lingering odor of Wolfsbane. Avla lay on a cot, her body weak and her mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. Meave, ever the calming presence, sat by her side, her hand gently grasping Avla's.

A healer approached, her face etched with concern. She carried a tray filled with various jars, potions, and freshly crushed herbs. Her eyes met Avla's, a soft empathy in them. "My dear, we must counteract the effects of the Wolfsbane," she said gently. "It has been a heavy toll on your body, and we need to cleanse it."

Avla's eyes widened, the word 'Wolfsbane' sending a fresh wave of terror through her. "What will you do?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"We have prepared a mixture of healing herbs," the healer explained, holding up a small vial filled with a deep green liquid. "
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