Salt

Aisling bent to take a whiff of a pine stump, marked with an old scent. However, a more pungent perfume caught her attention. Her slim face turned to observe a dark woman of rich sable on the approach. She seemed welcoming and at ease. "'Ello," the soothsayer responded with a lilted voice, "'Ow are you dis gran' mornin?" Small, pointed ears turned towards the woman expectantly, expression soft and inviting.