Blackfoot Forest nothing succeeds like excess

Tonravik did not pause in her actions except for when the other spoke. She swung her head in the direction of the two-toned wolf, dark eyes looking to the face of the icy-eyed wolf. Doing it wrong. Use. All signs that this one knew a thing or two about herbs. Perhaps even what she had rummaged for. Either way, Citali implied that now, these plants she had torn from the earth were useless. She dropped the revolting-tasting herbs from her mouth (unsure as to what they were, only that they were the "good kind") and looked to them.

"They are useless," comes her monotone, but as she looked upward at  Citali, it seemed she was asking as opposed to stating. The plants themselves? They were in one piece... but, as for the place they had come? It was dug up, destroyed. She was no gardener, that was clear. What also was clear was that she herself was out of her realm. An ear flicked. She was open to suggestions.