They're fine, they're fine- [she waves the hand she was scratching them with dismissively, then goes back to get that one last spot where it meets her jaw,] -they just itch. It happens when they dry out. A bit of oil or lotion is all they need.

[She stretches, rolls her shoulders, sore from the repetitive task. Gods, she hates botany.]

A race might be distracting. I wonder what stories you would have to tell?