gilded thicket

Pythia's head tilts back the other way. Did the woman comment on her sense of smell because she was blind? Her brow furrows a moment, unsure, but not bold enough to ask. It wouldn't quite matter. She was more interested in whatever the woman was doing. A plant nearby did smell quite different than the rest of the thicket.

Taking a few ginger steps toward the sound of the woman's voice, she stills as the branch brushes against her leg. Reaching out to grasp the branch carefully from the woman, she sits back on her haunches and grabs the herb with her paws. Feeling it gently, she takes note of the texture of the branch and the leaves, how many there are, and its rich scent. This was definitely the plant she was scenting!

"Could I keep this?" Pythia requests, wishing to keep it so she may go back to examine it if she ever needed to. "So only the root is safe?" She adds on, feeling the piece of herb once more to see if she could feel for roots.

"speech"