The Heartwood eye for an eye, heart for a heart

She traced a paw along the delicate bouquet, feeling a certain yearning in what was presented to her and for her people she had left behind in sacrifice for worldly knowledge. He was quizzical in that moment—his question drawing her gaze upward and pausing her movement, a slow smile coyly presenting itself to her features as she considered his words. “Perhaps—what do gifts mean to your clans?”

He was engaging, in a way she had missed these prior months. So many months she had spent in the fortress of warriors and healers, and it only occurred to her then how lonely it had been—how much she had remained on the outskirts of them all, despite peeking through the window into their lives.

Lowering her nose to the sage, she nudged at it. “This, by my people, is used to cleanse. Whether a space or home… or a body, of illness.”

Decidedly, she nudged the yellow tulip now—a beautiful reminder that more would come and soon. “Yellow is meant to represent good fortune, and resilience. Fertility, even,” she murmured, a brow arching as she stole a glance to him.

And finally, she turned to the lavender, gently inhaling the fragrant scent with a sense of sudden homesickness. “This is used to treat wounds, sometimes,” she noted then. “Also, so help calm or soothe one.” A pause, and then a coy dip of her muzzle, as she gently clasped the lavender in her teeth, lifting it up to brush toward the man’s nose—“Hm?”