Hushed Willows Shake The Willows

Turning from the sprouting Horsetail, Grace shrugged, an almost sad smile coming to her face. She'd been worried about Nova, both her health and that she wouldn't be around much longer. Not dead, no, but leaving. They'd talked about it a while ago, but more and more restless was she getting, and feeling more rejected. Who was Grace to ask her to stay, to throw away her happiness, her sanity, her mental health? The russet girl had found her home, where her heart lie, but it seemed Nova had not. The old woman was trying, she could tell, but there would be a straw to break the camels back eventually. 
            "Just stressed, I suppose. A lot on my mind."
At his call, the healer in training hobbled on over and leaned in close, touching it with her tongue before rising with a joyful grin on her face. Nova taught this one to her while she was confined to a den, for the healing of her leg. The past few weeks, Nova had taught the younger girl a good deal, and she felt ever confident in at least her ability to heal. 
                              "Sweetflag: good for gas, belly aches, indigestion, heartburn, fever, colds, coughs, antispasmodic, anticonvulsant. A great thing for the pack, surely Stark. A good find you've made."
She repeated what it was used for: she'd eaten a lot of this in her recovery and would likely never forget it. It was a very good thing to have found, and she made sure the earth was extremely wet around it.