Pawing at fronds of dead grass Shilah carefully dislodged snow, poking here and there as he hunted for any remaining autumn foliage. Spying a few small fronds of fireweed he quickly set about breaking the stalks, pausing to gaze at the wilting violet flowers as the cold began to claim the plants. Gathering the foot-tall fronds in his teeth he moved on, eyes peeled for any other potential plants he could add to his collection before he headed back to his temporary storage den. So intent on his work Shilah almost didn't notice the small silverly ball of a woman huddled outside a makeshift den. He dipped his head in greeting but unsure if she saw him he set down his herb collection and cleared his throat. "Miss? Are you alright? Why are you huddled out here in the snow?" His nostrils flared, searching for signs of blood or injury as well as for any potential predators or harassers that might be giving her a hard time.
