Hushed Willows Shake The Willows

Grace was sniffing around closer to a pool of water, poking with a slender nail around the short, stubby stalks. She barely heard Starks words, so emmerced she'd been in looking for her own greenery to hope for herbs. He was right, of course, but she wasn't looking for something to use: she was making sure that it all grew well to use when she did really need it. 
           "Hmm?"
She murmurred back before lifting her head to look over at him sheepishly. There was no covering the fact she hadn't listened, and the russet girl almost expected him to be upset.