Here goes nothing. 
Yarrow for bleeding, hawthorn for nervousness, meadowsweet for headaches, feverfew for fever reduction, and valerian for sedations. That was Glaiven's list. And here she was, still trying to collect yarrow, becoming more and more frustrated each time she crushed the delicate white flowers. Sure, she had knowledge of medicinal herbs and had used many before, but she had always just bitten them right off the stem, bush, or tree, because they were for her. Why spend time removing them and gathering them if she was just going to use them then and there, right? Now she was not using them for herself, and faced the dilemma of gathering them WITHOUT crushing them to the point of uselessness. To say the least, it was frustrating. If only she had opposable thumbs, she thought wryly. For the time being, she gave up and sat dejectedly next to her pile of ruined and mangled flowers by the patch of yarrow.
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