Lion Head Mesa Malachite

goldenthread from the meadows, cypress, crocus. there was wild mint and marigold, the sheep's-ear growing rampant outside the palace. threads of sweet orchid and a veritable bounty of sand chamomile.

tavina paused in her sorting. "it always came naturally to me, i suppose," she began. "my father was a surgeon. self-trained. he taught me to dissect small animals. i became enamoured with the working processes. but less with death."

she pulled a small grey skin from a shelf and wrapped the mint in it, glancing at eset. "how did you know what to find?"