Herbalists' Cache so I can watch your face as I take it all away

He repeats her name in a manner that makes it seem foreign, taking the syllables and sounds and twisting them into something new. He offers next his own name, and it suits him well, she decides.  "wardruna." on her tongue the word to is altered, made softer, though it does not lose its strength. For a moment her focus waves and fades, though snaps back when he speaks of seeresses and standing. Why is she alone? For a moment, the memory is hard to draw forth, and she is silent in what may be mistaken for sadness, though in truth, she was empty of regret for them. "they died." It is a vague, simple answer, but it is mostly the truth. First they starved, and then came the other, stronger, starving ones that usurp the leaders and took what they wanted. And there was no more place for her, and thus she left easily, making her way back here. She draws in his scent then, finding interwoven with it the scents of other. "you are not alone." It is said questioningly, for the woman is intrigued, and lonely, and her herbs are dying from the cold. She needs something.