Whitefish River This is your heart, it's alive, it's pumping blood

Sure, Speedy agreed with a smile. Just let me know when you're done. She wouldn't force her to learn because, well, she wouldn't really learn well that way. Plus, she wanted this to be enjoyable so that maybe she would want to learn more in the future. Maybe next time, she would bring Spica along, although she was pretty sure her other daughter would consider this kind of learning boring and would have no problem telling her as much. 

Syrma's first question was a good one. She smiled at the comparison of the the plants here with the ones back on the plains. The plains would have more useful things in late spring and early summer, but while they were there, she had to agree with her daughter on the distinct lack of anything that seemed useful. Well, I learned what plants to use from my mother and from trial and error, she explained. She began to walk, a tilt of her muzzle offered to invite her daughter along. She searched around them, eventually leading them to the edge of the river. It takes practice and and application, she explained, her golden eyes searching the rocks that straddled the space where water met the riverbank. The more you learn and use them, the easier it will be to identify them. Finally, she saw something useful, and she turned to Syrma. Do you see the soft-looking green stuff all over that rock? Speedy asked, pointing her nose to a large, round rock directly in front of them. That's called moss; it's very useful, she explained. I use it to hold water for cleaning wounds or to give to someone who needs to drink, but it can also be used to stop bleeding in a bind. The abundance of the useful plant was one of her favorite things about living so close to the river.