Coy herbalist, Voltha

The forest floor is soft beneath her feet, a familiar comfort as Voltha carefully selects herbs, her large hands surprisingly gentle as she plucks a couple fronds. "Just a few more," she mumbles to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. "M-mother always said the blue-veined ones are best for healing."

A rustle in the undergrowth catches her attention. Her red eyes widen, a mix of curiosity and immediate panic rising in her chest. "W-what was that?" she breaths, her muscular frame tensing. Someone's there – someone who doesn't belong. A human, completely out of place, looking lost and confused.

Voltha freezes, her massive frame only hidden partially behind a large oak tree, her heart racing. "I-I should help," she whispers, then immediately second-guesses herself. "No, no... they'll be scared. They always are." Her hands tremble slightly, clutching her herb basket.

She turns to leave, but steps on a twig. The sound echoes like a thunderclap in the close proximity. "Oh n-no," she mutters, her blush deepening. "They heard me."