Morel

Morel tread forward quietly, her paws leaving light indents in the dirt below her. Her ears prickled at the sounds of the creek that ran alongside her. The leaves and branches swayed at the will of the gentle wind, threatening to take the herbs within her tightly clamped maw.

Her eyes, illuminated by the rays of light that glimmered through the canopy, focused on the task that lie ahead. On the hunt for yarrow, Morel's previous foraging efforts had been fruitless.

Now, in front of her was a tall plant with small, white clusters of flowers. This should seem like yarrow, but she worried that it might be poison hemlock. If touched, then it should certainly prove fatal. Of course, it could also be wild carrot - harmless, but not what she was looking for.

She sat before the plant, studying it. Perplexing.