Fanning the Flames

The woman did not chase her off, but rather smiled warmly as Sylvia approached. Orchid colored eyes flickered to the nearby snow monkey, noting how it too seemed to be hard at work attending the herbs. "You must be a shaman, or healer of sorts." She commented, eyeing the silver woman skeptically. In all the healers of her homeland, each one had an oddity about them, and some were even dangerous if crossed. Sylvia, having little knowledge of herbal remedies and the art of spirits, was always wary of such wolves. At the mention of a fire, Sylvia's ears perked. She had never learned how to start her own fires before, though most of the times the fires in her homeland were more like bonfires; huge celebratory flames that more often than not grew out of control. As the chill of the breeze floated through the air once more, she couldn't help but crave the warmth of the flames. "I can't say I've been taught such a basic tool, as embarrassing as that is." She admitted sheepishly, her gaze dropping to the floor of the gorge where she suddenly noticed a ring of rocks in the dirt. Her brows knitted together in confusion, "is this a part of building a fire?" She questioned, violet gaze staring back up at the woman curiously.