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There was always a plant to solve any problem, as far as she was concerned. All of the various roots, leaves, and such that she had so far collected could do a wonder of things. Aoife found out early that it wasn't a cheap business, nor could her prices be as such either. She was always fair though and made good trades. As long as her siblings were fed she was just fine.

Her spot in the market was small but it sufficed. It held an assortment of oddly colored jars, herbs in various states of drying, and had an over all odd smell. Upon her person in two aprons (and sometimes even three) were her more valuable plants.

It was there she could be found sitting on the ground. She was mashing up two roots into a paste using one of her mortars and pestle.

She started humming softly to herself to help pass time as she combined a few plants. A voice brought her back to her surroundings. Aoife looked up and saw a very well dressed man. Her customers usually a normal crowd but there were rare times she saw nobility. Those were surely the more interesting customers.

Aoife stood up, leaving her mortar on the ground. She nodded her head in response that she was indeed a herbalist, if the jars and such wasn't also a indicator. "I would be Aoife. What kind of chill? Sleeping troubles, shakes?"