If a mushroom can grow from sh*t, so can you

The bird had finally fucked off back to it's nest and for that she could only be grateful. She was taking stock of her new bruises, grateful the little bastards claws had avoided her eyes, although her ear was stinging something smart. Maybe there was a cut there? Not that it would bother her, she was always getting picked on by the wildlife. Finally she heard a voice calling out to ask her what sort of mushrooms. She glanced around quizzically before peridot eyes fell on the wolf that looked almost like a tree caught between summer and winter, she thought somewhere in the back of her mind that the effect was quite pretty.

Cricket's rosetted tail gave a high wave of greeting, her back end doing a happy wiggle. Generally, if they spoke first, well at least they weren't biting first. "Little red ones with white spots, they can be real good if you wanna have a good time! An' if you have someone you want to give a really bad time, well they're good for that too," her smile took on a slightly darker edge before lightening up again. "They're usually found around the bottoms of trees but I'm worried there might be too much snow at the moment. They keep well enough if you dry them out, but I haven't been in one place long enough to give it a proper go." She began to nose under the bushes in earnest, her heavy sigh clearly communicating they weren't under here.

Dry foliage rattled as she backed up and twitched her head around to find her next target. "Do you know much about plants? Willow bark is bitter as shit, but good for taking the edge off pains if you can stand the taste. Keeps for ages too, if you've got need to keep a stock." She could detect a scent of pack about the other woman, but she wouldn't come straight out and ask. It wasn't really her business after all, she was but a little loner, looking for a high.

“Speech”