Herbalists' Cache currach

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This area must have been particularly fertile or something, because the area was carpeted with different types of herbs and small, flowering plants and tender spring roots even for the earliness of the season. The area of the grove within which she snuffled was particularly thick, as the trees grew far from one another and allowed the underbrush to grow plush and entangled in itself.  Kitsch used her maw to delicately push through the thickets, searching for the white flowers and seed pods that West’s lore foretold when she heard the voice.

It was loud and distinctly feminine, so Kitsch’s sculpted head shot up and her foamy gaze settled upon a single women, padding towards her and offering assistance. Having traveled quite a distance to reach this cache, the pearl did not fancy the idea of returning to Teaghlaigh empty handed. With that in mind, Kitsch gave a rather uncharacteristic greeting for a girl of her maturity: she gave a bark and swung her tail low in a sign of welcome.

“Hey, yeah! Well, I’m looking for something but it isn’t lost.”  Kitsch’s voice came loud as she stepped towards the strange vagabond, meeting her halfway. Then, in a normal tone of voice “I just haven’t found it yet.”

Without missing a beat, Kitsch continued on her small, impromptu diatribe. “It’s a plant.  It’s tall, with a seed pod… likes fields.” the pearl recited the only information she knew about the plant, as if it was a mantra — she was loathe to forget the only caretaking lesson she ever had. “It’s called poppy?” Kitsch questioned, hoping everyone knew the plant by the same name. Perhaps this woman had heard of it?

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