Larksong Grotto All my friends are heathens

she burst toward him so suddenly, her fiery pelt such an intrusion on the faded, yellowed nature of the landscape, that the boy was completely caught off guard. when she spat toward him words laced with venom, he steped back a moment, in his shock adopting for a moment his mother's stutter. "I-I...of course." he finally managed to say, saphire gaze beholding the other still with shock. 

he had no memory of her. How and why was she here? her haughty gaze made him uneasy, and the thought crossed his mind that he should leave. but he frowned upon the thought, for the denziens of the wood would never have thought to back down from such a thing, would they? and some part of him was of their nature, now, so he fired back a sharp retort. "I'm looking for herbs. Poisons, too." he told her matter of factly, putting emphasis on the word poisons.

he was being useful. Potema had a big store of herbs and poisons that did all kinds of things, their healing and killing power something he held in awe. he wanted that too, that mastery of plants and the knowledge his mentor had. no other trade had interested him as of yet, and though it could be nothing but a phase, his ravenous hunger for more knowledge on plants and herbs and such had the potential to make a lasting impact on the boy. plants, were cool.