Thunder Dome No one's telling me the cure

the stone she holds in her mouth is making her teeth hurt.  for the last hour or so, she has gone between chewing and grinding various herbs into poultices.  she surmises she's lost all ability to taste, but that simply comes with the territory.  a large leaf lies nearby where she works with small, chewed-up heaps of goldenrod, horsetail, and marigold arranged neatly on it.  natshana has yet to discover which leaves she actually prefers to use in this place; however, this is the best one she has discovered thus far.

just as she has finished another batch of horsetail, she hears the sound of a wolf's approach.  one of her ears twitches, and she drops the rock aside with a clatter.  carefully collecting the herb with her teeth and tongue, she sets it on the leaf, seemingly unbothered by the arrival and presence of a stranger.  though she does not verbally greet whoever it is, a sound of acknowledgment rises from the back of her throat so that they do not assume she is ignoring them.