The Heartwood I whistle a happy tune

Vienna had seen enough willows to know the bark's unique property, but still she listened spellbound, for the second part she had never caught wind of.  "Really?" she asked, obviously intrigued.  "Do you know any of them?"  She might have traded in her chronicler hat for healer, but that didn't mean she wasn't up for collecting every story she could get her paws on.

Her family told stories, some of them origins, but many of them dealt with the sweeping and sorrowful branches of the willow.  She had never heard of one that explained the fragile bark, and excitement filled her at the prospect of the unknown.