Dragoncrest Cliffs only the sound of my hands shaking

Tux was inherently terrible at recognizing and differentiating between plants; whatever gene controlled that, he had missed out on.  There was an exactly eighty five percent chance in the near future that he would tell someone that the plant that Rose had pointed out was yarrow, and he would probably also end up telling them that it was Rose who told him that.  He tried to look like he was interested, but in reality he was hopelessly lost.  Maybe if Dacio had suggested something else, like the weather, he would've been able to soak up more.