Her job was a hard one. Not a particularly cruel one, mind you, but difficult. The female Ambia sighed, lowering herself to her eyes in the waters of the pool, mane floating out around her neck and face. Normally she enjoyed her position as Head Healer, but at times like this it became almost too much to handle. It was an odd concept, but she managed to have a love-hate relationship with her life.
Orotha allowed herself to float just beneath the surface of the water as she thought. Maybe she was just running away from her problems at this point. Her life was, for the most part, a fine one; no one spent their time here without a bit of stress and heartache. It seemed for her, however, that it laid heavier on her than the rest of her companions, but her position had more stresses as well. Hunters hunt; Scouts scout; Warriors fight. They all seemed so easy compared to the job of a Healer, the one they all had to come to when their tasks went awry. The injures she had seen made her suffer, though she had no way to feel the pain herself. Imagining, though, was far more than she wanted.
And so she had come here under the guise of looking for some rare herb she needed for her work. No one from the Spire would disturb her here- they were all the way at the foothills of the Fe'gan mountains, far too far for them to bother hunting her down. As shy and quiet as she was, the female doubted anyone even realized anything was wrong with her.