Lion Head Mesa itching

the smell of something pleasant yet sharp halts racharra's racing thoughts. not like that of a fly flitting by and more like a gentle nudge on the shoulder by a chatty friend. she was so lost in thought actyally that she hadn't realized there was someone nearby until the smell of.. that invaded her senses. she turns, and finds the source of the intruding smell.

oh. she stares, a blink finally breaking her out of her confused trance as she staightens. ..hello.
it was the deerskin, that was the source of the smell that now lures her in.
excuse me.. she swallows and clears her throat, marigold eyes caught between looking at haizhel and the deerskin he carries.
but what is it? th-the thing you have.