Dawnlark Plains Tell me how you do it, how you do it

Sheigrim wanted to look for plants. Wanted to look for plants to make a medical cache and to start a garden in the Vale. He was particularly looking for shooting flowers, perhaps Great Blue Lobelia or Blue Vervain. It was entering the birthing season, after all, it was always god to start a cache and a garden. Maybe he'd be allowed a garden to study his toxicology. It'd certainly be his pride and joy. 

However, he wasn't having much luck as it was, beings he went north, he'd happened across a snowy plain. It didn't look very promising, yet he'd try. He started to dig about, looking for the shoots that something might be growing here. Anything, he wasn't fussy. Yet it seemed there were only grasses; it might be useful if he would study them, perhaps?

@Aure

Departing from Herbalists’ Cache and the almost-doppelgänger that’d been discovered there, Aure and @Opalia turned to trekking back north once more, herbs in tow that they could carry. Before picking their way down along the coast, they would return to Drageda first, and distribute what they’d found, and rest for a time.

Time, in itself, was regarded by Aure as a persistent, anxious thing. She needed to do what she could for her kru before she delivered and thus remained absent for another month. Even then, though, she didn’t wish to be a burden.

In the meantime, the two females left the greenery behind for the murkier Plains, still traced with snowmelt and the last of winter. It seemed that there may not be anything to scrounge up — but, catching sight of a grey male, she at least decided to make her presence known in passing. So she gave an inquisitive chirrup, the sound muffled by greens.

His head lifted at the sound of another, seemingly curious. He found the pale pelt of a female; in her mouth were plants. His interest perked as he bounded over, tail waving with his curiosity. He extended his muzzle to the woman, his eyes assessing the plants she had. ​"Hey there Miss," he greeted, ​"You a healer of some sort?" He smiled, curiosity apparent on his face.

He took in her appearance, her bloated, pregnant look. Her marred face. His mind ran with many thoughts. Was she one of those forced to stay and produce? Were there those kinds here? However, she didn't seem unhappy and she was out. He didn't worry about it but made a note to ask if the topic ever fell to that. He'd be curious first. He wasn't one to ask outright if they needed saving. 
Like he'd have the guts to save anyone.

Her eyes gleamed a bit as the cloudy male trekked over in earnest, and to his words she gave a nod of her own. She began to answer him, but it took her a few heartbeats to realize that her voice was muffled by herbs — an unconscious, frequent habit she tended to realize of herself too late.

Eyes crescented like half-moons, flustered, before the herbalist promptly set her bundle down to properly reply: ”I am a healer, yes. Are you ailing?” It was her turn to to look over the male before her, tail quivering in hesitant worry.

Countless eyes had tracked the scarlet hurts upon her ivory, and where she once felt ashamed and particular, now she paid it no mind. Instead, her own gaze threaded about the Plains, ”We are only making our way up north — on a foraging trip,” she mused absently, more to herself than anything. ”I don’t suspect there is much to be found here... but who knows? Life hides in ze most unexpected places.”

He grinned at her attempt to speak with her mouth full. He took a liking to her, she seemed to be joyful company. No, she wasn't suppressed. Likely, she'd escaped from her past. "No, Miss. I myself have interests in the workings of the Shamans and Faeries of the world." He grinned, half expecting her to question him. Many he met did when he spoke about the Coven and Magick.

"Indeed. I have often found myself surprised with that I find as well as finding new plants. You never know when you need to have something at hand." His cornflower eyes sparkled like twilight. His ears were cupped, showing his youthful joy. Perhaps this woman and her accomplice could join Arenraith. They needed to rebuild their numbers. He hoped the others that got caught behind with the winter storms made it here. He knew The Sky would be calling for them often.

lame 8am post sry

She'd heard of shamen, she thinks, and somewhat of fae; but by the time she was a yearling, she'd turned deaf ears to such fables. Of course, it couldn't have been entirely so; it couldn't have been just the stars to have made her as drifting as she was. After Dennan, though, there had been many things to rattle her up into the almost-delicate nature she now carried today. In the end, who knew?

Turning her thoughts back to his words, she nodded at intervals with him. "That much is true, yes. Even an inkling of knowledge, and even an ambiguous, unlearned could help change ze course of something in some way." She cast a listless glance to the terrain about them once more. "Even if no herbs sprout here, perhaps spring will push something else from ze earth?"

His posture relaxed and settled, slowly plopping his butt down to rest. He'd been out in this cold for quite some time now, perhaps he should return to the Vale. 
She was right, of course. She seemed wise. He too cast his gaze about as if the snow would suddenly clear and a meadow sprouted beneath them but alas, he was to be disappointed.

"Of course, though unlearnt skills could be used wrong." Botany was such a thing. If you knew what one plant looked like, there were many that probably look much the same and were poisonous. That's why his tempory mentor also taught him Toxicology -- before his death of course. Sheigrim oft missed the man.

"Perhaps there will be plants here, yet the ground doesn't seem very fertile. I'd imagine only the toughest grasses grow under the snow." He tilted his head, Myrto clinging to the fur of his scruff for warmth, "Where did you get those?" He hoped there'd be something to start his garden. Gardens, rather.

Aure only further agreed with what this male — Sheigrim — had to say. Perhaps the unorthodox could learn their skills in the better ways, and perhaps grasses might grow on the Plains. His next inquiry had her casting a look behind her, ”Ah, yes. It is called ze Herbalists’ Cache, and is usually free of any inhabitants. Well, aside from ze common wanderer,” nodding her muzzle over a thin shoulder, back towards the way the two females had come. ”With spring on ze way, I am sure you will find what you seek there.”

For a moment, she’d thought there’d been some sort of overgrown burr caught up in the druid’s ruff; but after leaning in as uninvasively as she could, a gentle curl touched her lips as a tail became evident. ”Your companion?” she queried, lowering her voice into a wisp so as to not disturb the slumbering... dormouse? Deermouse?

Either way, she could sympathize with the little soul — and was even a little envious. In all this cold, she wished she could nestle into warmth whenever she pleased until the sun returned.

Herbalists Cache.
It sounded exactly like the sort of place he needed. Lots of herbs, fresh plants, others also looking for herbs to exchange thoughts, findings, and knowledge. His whole face lit up at his minds runnings, his tail wagging a gear faster. He should go straight there! Perhaps he'd take Petra. That way he could show off to her. "Of course, it sounds exactly like what I'm looking for. Thanks!" He grinned wide, happy to have met this woman.

His head tilted, brows furrowed in a moment of confusion, then he remembered that Myrto was his companion. Familiar and companion didn't get mixed up for him, yet most people weren't of Magick teachings. He turned to rouse the deer mouse before turning back to speak, "Mytro. She is my familiar." His chest seemed to puff out in pride. Familiars weren't dictated by size or power but by the connection they gave the Magick wielder to the Earth. He remembered when he first found her that everything seemed to glow with life he'd never seen before and the longer they spent together it seemed the more he saw.

closing!

Her eyes were softened by fondness, and the endearing way with which Sheigrim spoke of his circumstances with Myrko. After some time, though, she felt it was best for her and Opalia to continue their return north. So, bading the argent male well, the herbalist drew the young gona away with her; significantly in some better spirits than this month had first left her in.