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The days had become long for the petite rose patched doe. Having returning from the ruins with someone who was in need of help. She had set the critter with a deep sleep. She had yet to take time to place a cure. The spa had become hopping after the flower festival. Seems that other Nouls had found out about the place from those whom had come before. Now her days were filled with showing others to the pools for soaks and brewing teas. Herbal wraps were also a favorite things for those with pulled muscles. Some refused healing magics, saying that herbs would soak in better. She couldn't deny that, she had set a couple on herself... With difficulty, but after a nights rest what had been pulled felt a whole lot better.

This night, Dusty said farewell to the last of the Nouls whom had come to enjoy the spa and retired to her own small den. Resting on a small mossy nest was the strange critter. She had cone to find that it was a dire rat, though not sure what had happened to it to make it so sick. Shaking her head she placed another cool cloth over the rat .

"I still need to help you.. I am so sorry for putting your care off for so long." She muttered nosing at the now clean rat.

Closing her eyes, Dusty's horn started to give a dim red glow. Reaching forward she placed her horn against the rat's coat, laying down a cure. It wasn't an instant, it was one that would work over the span of the night. Standing back as the glow faded she was really tired now. But she had set the wheels in motion ease the rat's suffering and bring it back to a livelier lifestyle.

Taking to her own bed on the other side of the place, Dusty's eyes slipped closed at the night life started. The crickets and frogs started singing to each other and it was music to her ears. With a sigh, Dusty fell asleep not thinking that anyone would come for a visit in the night that will cause more harm then anything else.

More often than not, Halen found himself hanging around Dusty's spa. It had become more of a home to him than his little grove deep in the trees, and for the first time in years he'd been venturing out to join Homewood's activities. The deep ache of depression and loss still sat heavy with him, but things were better, like sunlight breaking through fog. And Dusty herself was the bright spot in Halen's life. She'd given him a new purpose and something to look forward to, a reason to wake up his old bones and drag his carcass out across Homewood. He owed her so much more than she realized.

While "home" was still a scrubby patch down south of the spa, Halen made himself a nest nearer to Dusty, so he'd be closer at hand if she needed him for this or that task. Business seemed to be picking up, and Halen's teeth were set with an edge of worry that Dusty might run into shitty customers. And he'd be there to set them straight. The last thing he wanted was for Dusty or her hard work to fall to blows. Halen didn't spend every night nearby, but he knew Dusty had her hooves full with a sick dire rat she'd picked up from the ruins, and Halen was ready to pick up the slack.

For once, he'd gone to bed relatively sober - something that was happening more and more often with Dusty around - so his sleep was light, like back in the old days when he patrolled as a scout. The clatter of something smashing against stone jerked him to wakefulness. Halen whipped his head up, blinking blearily through the darkness while his eyes adjusted to the poor light. Through the foliage and steam he could just make the outline of an unfamiliar noulicorn creeping through Dusty's spa.

Halen grunted as he dragged himself to his feet. He was an imposing fellow, taller than the average noulicorn, and still well muscles despite the extra padding he'd put on the last few years. He shook out his mane, reared his head, and stomped out of the bushes with nostrils flared and icy eyes narrowed to angry slits.

"Hey, bud!" he called, letting a growl paint the deep timber of his voice. "Those aren't your things. You better get a move on."

"Dusty..." Halen growled, eyes on the spotted buck. "Get back to your den."

The last thing he wanted for her to get hurt, and this stranger seemed intent on doing harm to something. Halen snorted, lowering his head so his horn was bared, his blue eyes a flash of steady anger. Halen had gealt with his fair share of ratty rapscallions as a scout, help drive off more than one of them to the barrens when they're antisocial behavior made them unfit for Homewood. This guy had trouble written all over him and Halen wasn't so far gone that he couldn't handle a fight.

"She's her own doe," Halen replied through gritted teeth. "Not a piece of property to belong to anyone. You've got five seconds to drop that pack and get out of here before I ruin your day, punk."

Halen didn't bother counting out loud, he wasn't going to wait that long. The first twitch of a muscle the stranger made toward Dusty, Halen would charge.