be the air we breathe

Though the young girl was very unassuming when meeting other wolves, not at all one to judge others, she was quite critical of herself. Often to the point of making herself feel quite downtrodden for not knowing more about the world around her -- even if her knowledge often exceeded that of her siblings. Ara was constantly thirsty for more, wanting to know everything there was to know. Particularly about healing. And she found herself once again growing frustrated with her lack of knowledge. Why hadn't she asked Loccian how to keep herbs fresh? She knew plants needed water to live, so had assumed they would need to be kept damp. But did factors like light factor in at all? Would it matter if they were laid in the sunlight, or placed in the back of her family's den? What if they froze? Would they still be as good? She figured it varied by plant, and her mentor had shown her how to apply fresh lavender, so she didn't know if it would work as well -- or at all -- if it had been dried out. A sigh escaped the dual-colored girl's lips, a testament to the irritation she felt at herself for having not asked more questions.

She was so engrossed in her self-appointed task that she hardly noticed when a stranger approached. Her father had taught her to always be vigilant, and never trust others unless you had a reason to, especially wolves of unknown packs and rogues. The stranger's voice reached her ears long before her scent did, and Ara would slowly turn to face the young girl, jaws parting and dropping a small bundle of lavender to the earth, adding to the growing pile of herbs. Not an overly socialized girl, her first instinct was to grab her pile of lavender and run, but the more rational half of her mind kept her frozen to the ground where she stood. Had the girl been trying to sneak up on her? She seemed a bit younger than herself, and not openly threatening -- so Ara would let herself smile a bit at the stranger, tail swaying lightly where it lay draped behind her.

"This is lavender," she explained, not at all matter-of-factly; instead, her sweet lyrics were full of hesitance and she suddenly found herself concerned as to whether she had misjudged entirely and this was a different plant. It would be awful to give the girl false knowledge, but she leaned to sniff at the plant again, and a wave of nostalgia washed over her. No, it was definitely lavender, and she would nod reassuringly at her declaration. "You are not from Seracia, are you?" Callisto's scent was entirely unfamiliar, but she didn't want to assume anything.