Stone Circle and at once I knew I was not magnificent

She'd been wrong it seemed, in her assumption that the herbs she collected were safe and good, harmless. Initially, she'd avoided touching the herbs she didn't know, but the increasing pain in her forelimb had her try the lot of them, going through the piles methodically, applying first poultices and later, chocking down the most benign looking along with the poppy seeds she'd started to ingest. It was this insignificant day near the end of the year's first month, however, that she found the castor beans. They seemed, small, shriveled, insignificant, and reminded her of much larger poppy seeds. It took a moment of inspection for her to decide that surely they could not be used in a poultice, and thus it was after a moment of trepidation that she carefully swallowed down one of the tiny things, hoping for relief from the grating pain in her leg. 

She knew almost immediately that she had made a mistake, knew it when her throat started to burn and her lips itched and swelled. She twisted, making for the entrance of the den as her face started to water, and made it to the small clearing outside before her throat started to close, and it got hard, suddenly, to draw air into her greedy lungs. Fear made the situation all the worst, had her crash into the snow as her face streamed with blurred tears and her maw fell open in rattling breath, the brightness of sun upon snow suddenly blinding, until the tiny bit of fog that resulted from exhaled breath faded into a wisp, and then nothing. The girl twitched once, twice, until finally, her body spasmed and her heart ceased it's beating. Wide blue gaze stared sightlessly into snow-dusted branches, the eery silence of the scene already disturbed by an inquisitive raven.