She caught it easily and, instead of dropping it, sniffed at it before taking a bite of the leafy bits. A moment later she made face of mild disgust and then dropped what remained in the barrel. This particular weed was edible (for her), but not particularly tasty.

"Vanara," she answered as she wiped her hand on the side of the wheelbarrow to clean off the last bits of the weed. Her outfit, despite being improperly and haphazardly tied up for the sake of movement, was clean, if not otherwise well-kept.

"Ooru" she continued, the sound she made that of a monkey hooting softly. Then repeated it as though reading it onomatopoeia from a book - clearly she'd learned the need to 'translate' this specifically. "Oor-oo. My name. And you? You look human. Are you?"