Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

Rœkia strode along the edge of the garden for a moment before swerving suddenly inland as she spied the lovely bright orange blossoms of marigold growing out in a clearing. The weather was slowly starting to warm up. There was a still a chill from the north but she was finally starting to see a bit of green and the hardy marigold were pushing through. "Ok, snowball. This plant here is marigold. If used correctly it makes an excellent salve for burns and cuts. Wolf is getting a fire going. Get your things out and I'll show you how to make an ointment." She shrugged off the travois and started digging through the hides for her own items.