Herbalists' Cache every hour has its sound

She continued to use his name as she had before, but he found himself undisturbed by the concept - it felt more normal to use Soltero... his mother had been the only one who referred to him as anything but. The traveller passed her a sheepish smile, but it smoothed and warmed as his mind shifted to the task at hand; idly he wondered how much time he would have before the sun began to dip too low and he was forced to head home, eyes heavy with the weariness of his trip. He was sure he had time.

Ruenna's offer sparked a glimmer in his gaze, and he gave a soft nod in response: "I appreciate it," came the low rumble of gratitude, tail swaying against his hind as his lips parted to taste the chilled air once more. With the action, another thought traipsed into his skull, and he felt his tongue brush over his gums - what did catnip smell like? He couldn't remember, and cast his eyes toward the champagne wolfess with a raised brow, vision wandering the soft fur of her cheeks before he realized and refocused on the surroundings.

After many heartbeats of silence, he paused, inhaling the minty aroma that tinged the air. The Valento peered back toward Rue, and inclined his head curiously: "Is that catnip?" He sure hoped so, but another part of him frowned internally at the concurring ideas - if that was catnip, and his memory wasn't entirely failing him, then that would mean his time in the plateau wolf's presence was coming to and end, and he found himself reluctant to linger on it.