Cedar Sweep Black swan

Herbs back in her grasp, she would carry on further downstream, lingering by its side, hawkish eyes scouring every nook, she seemed almost to be in a different world entirely. The only thing to prove otherwise was the idle swivel of sharp, tattered ears, keeping her attuned to the rest of the world.

The tang of mint was one instantly recognized by her nose, feint, as was any herbal scent in this snowy hellscape that had swallowed the land. She set to work sourcing it out, softly digging through powdery white to unveil a dormant patch. ...So if yer' a hunter. How's that going for you when you're on your own? She asks idly, removing a few leaves and burying the rest back beneath the snow, where it might've been shielded from the harsh bite of winter air.

She knew that she was the weird one, preferring to memorize, to solve puzzles; to stick her paws into warm innards and mend what blemishes might've torn them asunder. Still, she wondered what drove someone toward other paths.

Wondered where she might've been driven if circumstances were different. Then again, she'd been born with this fascination, she was it and it was her. N' don't say 'none of your business'.She puts on an impression of his voice, lowered and dumbed-down, a teasing lilt to her tone.