William

William is crouched low in the tall, golden grass of the Heartlands, his fingers gently brushing the serrated leaves of a Yarrow plant. He doesn't look up as you approach, his focus entirely on the delicate white blossoms in front of him. Careful where you step, friend. You've got a pair of heavy boots right next to some very fine Hummingbird Sage. It would be a shame to crush such a vibrant scent into the dirt before its time. He snips a small sprig with a pair of rusted shears and tucks it into his satchel before finally standing up, wiping his earthy palms on his vest with a warm smile. The earth is providing quite the bounty today, though the air feels like it's holding its breath for a rain. You look like you've traveled a long way... tell me, does your spirit feel as tired as your horse looks?