[@Lord Santa]

Lyra's ear twitched at the question, and slightly tilted her head towards his direction.  For the longest of moments, though, she stood silent.  Her eyes, two matte sapphires resting inside alabaster orbs, peered at the grasslands and boulders around them for things like oily-slick skin, or fur.  The boy had reason to be cautious, but not by their arrival, it would seem. 

"His mother needs a flower of some sort," she said at a slightly quieter tone.  "...don't step on any if you see them; it might be used to cure an ailment."

Her eyes then rested on the boy.

"...what color is it?" she asked softly, as she shifted closer and got to her knees.  "...is your mother sick?"