Taking Care of Business and Working Overtime

He seemed pleasant enough. As she had suspected, he was indeed looking for something. Broom, he called it. Being a foreigner in these lands, Iolaire hadn't learned all of the plants yet. Each region seemed to be different. As the boy gestured to the shrub nearby she nodded in acceptance, learning the plant with her gaze and committing it to memory. Stepping close, she inhaled lightly, testing its scent as well.

When questioned about what she was hunting, Iolaire replied in turn. "Last years Motherwort. My supplies have run low. It's a plant that seems to grow in most lands that I've been to, but I'm having trouble finding it here." She gave a light shrug. "Most likely because of the snow."

The dark woman gestured to the shrub between them. "Tell me of this Broom. The plants here are different than those that I'm used to."