Rosemary’s attention—and eyes—fixed on Lawkit. The press on her paw confirmed her suspicions, and she exhaled softly. Based on his limited speech and reactions to sensory stimulation, she suspected either a migraine or a nasty ear infection. She tucked the observation away in her mind for later diagnosis in the temple; right now, she prioritized removing Lawkit from the hubbub.

“I’ll take you,” she agreed softly. “There will be lavender. And water.”

Ordinarily, Rosemary wouldn’t miss observing Aphra and attempting to counteract the mother’s abusive tactics, but she did her best to ignore the confrontation between Aphra and Inferno. Her ears twitched occasionally at the words, but the ocelot otherwise showed no outward reaction.

She glanced at Michael and nodded, grateful to his help as she walked Lawkit to the temple. “He’s very young. Perhaps one poppy seed, but no more… I’d rather give him a touch of catnip or honeysuckle. Works better for the pain, anyway.” Given Rosemary’s proclivity for plants and herbs, was it any surprise she knew about how to psychoactive ones?