winter forage

When Scylla had been asked to fill in for someone else in the aspect of healing, the girl was a little surprised. Well, more than a little surprised. She was less of a healer and more of a...taker-aparter. A puter-backtogetherer. Something like that. Still, when she was asked to accompany the group, she did so without complaint. She was supposed to be here making her father proud or something.

The others dug around in the snow to see if they could find anything useful while the small fae padded out onto the ice of the lake. With one dexterous little paw, she wiggled a tall stalk sticking up through the ice. "Cattails," she explained loud enough for the group to hear. "The roots can be cooked and the puffy tops can be burned to keep insects away." Useful stuff since a lake was bound to be bug infested.

"Scylla Klein"