Wild Berry Meadow foreign creature; gift is a burden

He claimed he was, though his easy little rhyme grated on the woman a little, though she hid it easily. The wordplay came too simply; she saw skill in subtle, beautiful song and poem. Skill, she gave a tiny echo of his own smile, saying nothing. "I collect stories." She offered, for that was a simple way of telling how just she lived her life. She lived, and she experienced, and she collected tales as they were told, sung, or lived.