Chimvi had been in his den for two days. Hatua, annoying as he was, had been bringing him his herbs twice daily, seeming to recognise that the dosage was still not strong enough to bring the larger male back to full health. The herbs increased in volume after each visit, and Chimvi thanked whatever deity was listening that Hatua seemed to realise after the fifth glare that Chimvi didn't want to talk, and delivered the herbs in silence.
He rested near the mouth of his den, using the wall of the den to hold him up and leaning quite heavily against it. Without it, he would probably be splayed across the ground.
He was tired.
Were the herbs going to work? He wondered, or would he over-dose on them before he found the right quantity? He had to be careful. His body was saturated in the herbs right now and it was a fine balance, however his eyes were clear for the first time since he had collapsed in the herb garden.
Nessiaing