Herbalists' Cache iii. whispering woods of wild and lurid dreams

"T'ank you, Druid," she murmurs in genuine gratitude, not having expected such an offer. Elve's not sure the spirits can hear her from here, she has received no answers to her prayers. Perhaps Sherigrim could speak with them, perhaps he knew of some magick that could decipher their unintelligible whisperings. 

The mouse, Myrto, tumbled gracefully from the man's pelt - with the ease of one who has performed such an action multiple times past- as he graced her with an amusing expression that brought a smile to her face. 

The Sami leaned forward, removing a few strawberries from the bundle of stockpiled food - placing them before the rodent with a nudge of her rosy nose in offering. 

The Faery's playful tone draws her ocean eyes to those of cornflower - sensing the jest hidden in the words. She's unfamiliar with jokes, unfortunately, but she has heard enough quips about her appearance to recognize them. 

"Elve Heikkinen," she offers, alongside a small half-smile, unsure if she can still claim the surname of her adoptive Clan.