Swiftcurrent Creek But I'm gonna make it through

Morwenna's eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of surprise flickering across her usually guarded expression. She hadn’t known that—hadn’t realized there were so many nuances, even among something as seemingly simple as seaweed. The idea that one misstep, one wrong choice of herb, could turn healing into harm struck her deeply. It was a fragile line, she realized, one that demanded knowledge and care.

I didn’t know such a thing, she murmured, almost to herself, as if turning the new information over in her mind, examining it from every angle. The difference between herbs… it could mean life or death. Her voice softened, carrying a note of reverence for the knowledge Etienne held and for the responsibility it entailed.

She glanced at him, a faint, almost reluctant smile gracing her lips. It seems I have much to learn, she admitted. The humility in her words wasn’t born from weakness but from a newfound understanding of the depths she hadn’t yet reached. And here Etienne was, a quiet keeper of wisdom she hadn’t expected, guiding her, even if unintentionally, to see the care and precision healing demanded.

I'd like to know both worlds. It seems there are a lot of malevolent beings out there. she asked, her voice quiet yet sincere. There was no pride in her question, only a willingness to learn, to grow in ways she had not before considered.