Noctisardor Bypass one more spoon of cough syrup

despite her attempts to remain still, her nervousness only grows until her forelimb begins to twitch, a quick and steady rhythm against the unyielding ground. oh, gods. her father's last reprimand remained fresh, and she could almost hear him approaching, fully prepared to give another. a glance over her shoulder, just to make sure. 

"it's, um, the plant over there! with the purple flowers, kinda like a bush. it smells nice," she supplies, attention returned to the boy. "just, um, a few of the stalks would be really nice," juniper elaborates, though at a refusal she wouldn't press further -- nervousness and guilt put an end to any further desire to linger here.