It's been quite a while since Fionan has gone foraging for his healing herbs, and though business is typically calm these days he acknowledged that it never hurts to be too prepared in case a sudden catastrophe strikes the land. He's been just as well-educated as any other young unicorn about the Fleeing, the Great Dead-Fire, and beyond, and he'd be a fool if he also didn't remember exactly what made him into a herbalist in the first place.
As it is, he doesn't have to wander too far away from Dorrala Village to find a fertile part of the forest that's been relatively untouched for the past few months, it seems. He considers the various herbs as he passes them, dipping his head to examine their stems a bit closer. Some of these have valuable roots, some have precious leaves, and yet others he needs only the blooms growing on them. But they're all fragile. And that's perhaps what sets him apart from some of the younger herbalists in town, those who haven't quite grasped just exactly how to use a gentle touch. Fionan curves his head to the side, letting the thickly-woven basket slip off from where he wore it on his neck, before he begins gently pawing at the hard soil, disturbing it around a purple-blossomed herb whose roots will draw poison out of a wound once made into a poultice.
He's hard at work nudging it into the basket when he catches sight of movement and glances up, seeing another unicorn not too far away from him. Fionan hesitates. Right. Social interaction. Not his best feature. He clears his throat, staring down at the field of herbs beneath the shelter of the trees above, before attempting conversation. "The plants are...quite riotous this year."
Oh, just perfect.
It was perhaps unfortunate that he chose this, of all fields and fallows, to get some running and exercise in, because despite the semi-remote location and normally quiet surroundings, the smallish stretch of tree free land seemed to be already occupied. Burdock gave a mincing step at the edge of the forest, tossing his mane a bit in annoyance and looking back over his shoulder. He could leave, find another place, but this field was a favorite of his. There were no large boulders to get in his way, no sudden tree stumps to trip him up, no holes in the ground to catch your hoof. The plants growing here weren't too high and the soil they grew in wasn't too soft. All in all, a perfect place from some practice. 
