Honeyed Pasture if teardrops could be bottled,

"herbs-- flowers-- medicinal stuff. and for fun," she replied, her tail sweeping against the grass, her paws patting a few times at the ground beneath her, "my mother was our packs healer-- so i was the healers daughter. so i learned a lot from her." but here she was not the healers daughter-- she was just a healer. she was more than that. she was the kind one. oh-- what had rannvieg called her? the stunning one? oh-- maybe not so much. 

dalia giggled, shaking her head. "oh! he's not that bad," she insisted, remembering their conversation on the cliffs fondly. velen was kind of douchey but... also kind. personable. dalia was fond of him. "but i won't leave ya," she purled, giving her friend a small smirk-- which fit awkwardly on her gentle, sweet features-- "i'm glad you're around too."