Silverlight Terrace My competition can't see me 'cause I don't own a mirror

The girl’s vernacular sparked a questioning glance from the dark young man before he turned with a curt nod to his brother and ventured to find the stocks of herbs that had been stored by those who healed others within the mountain pack.
 
Atlas was not fond of the leafy items. He believed most of them had a sharp tang of a flavor and left remnants of dirt and scales from their leafy bodies in the back of his mouth. Still, he had seen the great things that these herbs could do. He had witnessed that there was some power in knowing the difference between plants that could harm and those that could help. After nosing through the greenery, the boy plucked a few peppermint leaves in his mouth and carried them back to where the young girl waited with Antares.
 
“You should chew these up and eat them,” the shade remarked to the stranger, dropping the leaves at her paws with a small nudge. “They’ll taste peculiar.” It was the only warning he could think to offer her, for the leaves did taste strange. The lingering flavor of mint still brought his tongue out to swipe along the hairs of his muzzle, unsure why it stayed in his mouth for so long.
 
“I am Atlas.”