Otter Creek just a reflex

Lane’s head jerked up when the man spoke. Curious eyes turned instantly weary as she took in the man's- no, the boy’s— tone, his pose, his swagger. Wow, rude. He was pretty arrogant for such a youngster… had he even seen a winter yet? Lane thought not.

Was Rude Boy trying to pick a fight, then? Provoke her? Lane was already exhausted of him.

“Digging,” Lane replied, blinking slowly. A few sprinkles of dirt fell from her chin as she spoke. If she knew anything about kids at all, it was that their attention spans were practically nonexistent. Maybe if she acted just as boring as she possibly could, he would leave her be and continue on his way.  

Her eyes darted to the small pile of chervil roots she had unearthed. Anyone who had ever been treated with chervil root, or even set foot in a medicine den, should have recognized the strong scent instantly. What the hell she was doing should have been obvious to the boy, despite his limited life experience. Did the wolves out here not have medicine?