 Wowza!
It had been Ezra's intention to get whatever plant he could get for potions once he was on his way back to the castle. But he was twelve and he was impatient, so no sooner had he set a foot near the trees-convoluted area of the pathways that the boy had carefully set his bag on a bench and climbed up a tree.
He wasn't even allowed to climb trees. Last time he'd climbed a tree he'd fractured his leg and gran since then had strictly forbidden him to do it ever again. But gran wasn't really around to watch, and to be fair, this time he hadn't fractured anything, so Ezra thought he was fine. The scrapped heel of his hand hardly counted because, really, it was more like a scratch - he'd checked! And it'd been his fault anyway for not holding on tightly, and letting a brown cat startle him enough to nearly land on his backside.
Ezra had not landed on his backside, though, which was the important part. He had said bloody cat under his breath, though, and then bloody cat again (though this time in wonder) when he realized it left several brown hairs on a branch. Ezra had maneuvered its way towards it, until he was more or less straddling it. Reaching into his pocket, the boy unfolded his handkerchief; biting his lower lip and frowning, Ezra collected the brown cat hairs, placing them on the handkerchief. Then he folded it, again, stored it in his pocket, and began to climb down.
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