The sprout had three small leaves, two were covered in broken flakes of snow. Lana dusted them off with the tip of her dark finger and let them meld back into a whole. Silently, she pulled her medical journal in front of her and scribbled a small description in tiny script. Dark claws gently pulled away the fresh frost from the stem until she could see specks of frozen earth. The plants of the west were different from the ones that flourished in Europe. They were brighter with more accents in the foliage. Even the scents, that spiced the territory from every corner, were rich and invigorating. Every chance she got, Lana would learn the ways of this new place.
Her ears swiveled towards a rustle in the denser part of the forest. Focusing, fiery eyes noticed a trail of paw prints in the snow that dispersed into the thicker undergrowth. Assuming it was her inquisitive companion, Lana returned her attention to the herb at hand. She detached a single leaf and watched as the plant swayed from the movement. A small vile was removed from her bag and capped with the leaf resting inside. Her stubbed pencil began sketching the sprout with rapid skill. Chills from the snow began spreading against the knee that lay skirting the top of the blanket. She shifted without taking her gaze away from her journal, but noticed a figure at the edge of her gaze. But when she turned, there was nothing but the waves of green.
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