What's the word?

Absinth watched Oleander's excited departure with a bemused smile, her tail flicking lazily behind her. When he returned, his enthusiasm was infectious, and she followed him to the quieter alcove, intrigued by his eagerness. It was so unfamiliar to her, to have young wolves like Wylan or Ollie so… comfortable with her. It was foreign.

She studied the dried stalk he presented, her eyes tracing over its feathery leaves and delicate white flowers. “Quite a specimen,” She remarked, her tone warm with appreciation.

Listening to his enthusiastic explanation, Absinth found herself impressed. His knowledge was thorough, his passion unmistakable. “I see,” She said, nodding slowly. “So even without its flowers, this distinctive leaf can identify it. That’s very useful.”

Her eyes softened as she noticed his tail wagging, wondering what nice upbringing the boy must have had compared to her own flickering in her mind. “It seems to me you’ve found your passion, Oleander. I applaud you,” The monochromatic woman said, her voice carrying a rare note of encouragement. “Tell me,” She added, a playful glint returning to her eyes, “How might it be used in ways that are less...common knowledge?”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Impress me further, and I might just teach you a secret or two of my own.”

wormwood