[p] your roots will rot away
#9
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Draugr is by Wander!

Draugr's world had forced her to grow up thinking childishness was not at all a desired trait. This was not to suggest Siv had refused playtime or outright stated such sentiments to the drab-colored wolfdog -- she had simply wished to emulate that powerfully unearthly air her mother seemed to emanate so easily. And so, she disappointed herself with these outbursts, forgetting so easily her own age. She leaned forward and watched Odessa, following her gaze around the garden. Dra stepped closer and settled down closer to the earth, giving the woman enough personal space for comfort .

Someone mentioned you wrote a book about all these herbs. I -- can't read, but when I learn, that will be the first book I read, the hybrid confessed, thinking the idea of a Luperci writing their own book marvelous. She could never hope to accomplish such a task, after all. Thyme, the hybrid repeated, nodding. It seems like it -- it's spring, but it's still been pretty cold. Yet, here it is, the wolfdog agreed, reaching tentatively herself for a leaf, as Odessa had. Its taste was strange on her tongue, but not entirely unpleasant -- she thought she might recognize it from some of the food cooked in the Last Supper. Did -- I mean -- don't they use this for the supper food, too? she asked, curious. She had known plants could be used for cooking and medicine, but that the same plant was useful in both ways was curious.

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