Duskfire Glacier and the prey always believe

"Jah," Imaq chirped exuberantly, practically beaming as her stumpy rear gave a happy wag -- her excitement feeding off of Lane's own. Perhaps she might find a similar companionship with Lane as she had with the listless wren, Iana. A prospect that filled her with joy if a bit of uncertain hopefulness, reminding herself again that there were differences between them that might come to fix a wall between the two women. Even amongst the womenfolk of her own father's family band, she had been rarely accepted -- truly loved and cherished by the mothers who raised her alone. 

"Oh," Imaq considered, casting her Sedna-blessed gaze of turbulent seawaters around the clearing searchingly. "Here," she beckoned, moving back a few paces to gesture at one of the bushes she'd gathered the herb from. "Lane see? Leaves," Imaq gestured in the vague tone of an instructor, reaching out to delicately nose one of the heart-shaped leaves of greenish-grey with her splotchy nose. She did not have the words to communicate entirely how she spotted the differences between the plants but hoped the other healer could grasp what she was trying to say: that the leaves were shaped differently, the edges of the catmints' being scalloped as well.