Whitefish River the wires got the best of him

She tries to focus on what he's saying, swallowing her irritation with his insistence for the moment. A cache. She hadn't even considered that one might exist at the Plateau, though it makes sense. Moss, She murmurs after several moments, struggling to recall what relatively little she knows of healing herbs. Poppy seeds — they're tiny and black. And... fuck. Marigold, maybe? You know what that looks like, right? Each word is an effort now; she suddenly feels incredibly lethargic, and she knows it won't be long before she needs rest. Her body has been pushed well beyond its limits, and now it calls desperately for a break.