sweet, delicious, yummy wine

Hiding booze from children is a tale as old as time, and Henbane really wasn't about to let any of the kids get too close to her stash. Right, the kids... she aught to move this stash now, huh? All the more reason to drink. The heavy feeling in her chest, trying not to hang around her neck. Bringing the better bottles with her, dumping the stuff that wasn't worth saving. Especially the stash that was still curing, something that... had probably not gone quite right. But that's okay, not every batch is going to be a good batch. Listen, she's no cook, she's no chef, and she's no connoisseur. Really, this is a little closer to every time a farmer has called a vet out to see why his pigs are acting weird-- only to find out that the pigs are drunk because the bottom of the slop bucked accidentally fermented.

So Hen's last batch of hooch hadn't been so good, and this time? Maybe this time would be at least a bit better. She could hope, right? Gathering fruits as they fell this time of year was a good enough bet. Especially when there was an orchard to steal from, not so far away. The edges of the borders were grey enough, and she could lie her way out of most things. Back against the wall, or whatever. Henbane looks raggedy enough, some wounds still healing, road-weary once again.

A handful of plums, overripe but not yet swept away by the ground dwelling prey animals. A big, juicy peach, that had been far too heavy for chip, dale, and whatever friends they brought on to bring back home. It's sweet, and taken really all of Henbane's self control to not dig her teeth in and devour the thing right now. No, it would be far better in the wine than it would now, in her belly. Nose low to the ground, there are a few more branches of berries as well. Blackberries, raspberries, though Hen has been left decidedly wanting in the blueberry department. Good things come to those who wait, right?

Good things come to those who wander. Henbane's return to her hiding place was full of surprises, the least of which was a flickering fire down one of the side caverns. Gaze curious, picking up a light jog as she ventures closer. Head tilting from one side to the other, nose twitching. Henbane can smell someone down here. Nails clicking against the floor, she's not trying to hide.

Hen's gaze on the woman is curious, warm, as she chances her way closer. "Somethin' about great minds thinkin' alike?" Her tone is warm, a brow lifting as she tips her makeshift bundle to show the woman her own harvest. "Pool our fruit, share your fire and I'll share my bottle?" It's a gentle suggestion, Henbane's gaze glimmering in the firelight. She's got an older bottle buried within the cave, and it seemed like an equitable arrangement. Hopefully.

"Speech"