Tuktu Weir Did we meet the other night?

He didn't continue his...was it rudeness? Or just how he was?
She'll probably never find out, but was glad to settle back into her own skin as she worked.
There it was, the plant she searched for.

She watched him approach the plant too. He seemed uncomfortable. Achy.
It was probably the cold.
Heat was for old wounds, she was pretty sure, and cold was for fresh ones.
Should she suggest it? Maybe later.

"Not for, uh, storage for medical use."
She titled her head to him. She wasn't really sure if there was a proper way. Surely you just...picked it?
Oh well, she'd be enlightened.