Dragoncrest Cliffs lucrurile astea

Her eyes had shuttered closed, but the herbalists' presence hadn't gone unnoticed. It was that diligent energy in which she'd become so familiar with over the past several days or so; the she-wolf that smelled like earth's own seasonings, and poultice and potions, forever to be vined by her concoctions. A simmering druid--what Vonnaruil might have called her.

Now, at the greeting, her eyes flickered open, and she merely listened to the opkepa's paw-falls as she made her way to drink from the lake's edge. Starlit gaze momentarily lost to the stars, she replied softly, "Good evening." Had she known Rose was rallying her gratitude, she might've halted in doing the same, but, "You've been exquisite, tending to ze other kru. I expect they'll be feeling revived by ze end of ze week." She gnawed on her lower lip, soft, silent chuckle leaving her as she thought of cheka, unbidden and simply charmed from her. Had she known, too, how many Rose had begun to feel for her, Aure might've reigned in her daydreaming a bit.

As far as understanding affections, she was oblivious, and utterly so. There was no helping her, in that matter. Instead, she gave a faint shake of her head, before rolling onto her side and propping herself on an elbow in one languid, lean movement. She studied the opkepa quietly, and then let her gaze roam the waters.