Rowan walked along the path carrying the bounty of her morning forage in her satchel. Her mind flashed back to images of her childhood, her long white-blonde hair braided tightly as she studied each of the herbs she held close to her side today, the same one’s her mother had once placed delicately in her small palm: yarrow, for healing, mugwort, for dreams, and a sprig of elderflower she had stash...