"Because yarrow is cheap to buy," Oakmoss explained. "Every hedgewitch, apothecary, and miracle-man for thousands of miles has fields of it, and they ordinarily have a large back-stock of the stuff dried. It would just not be the most frugal use of our time."
Celestia sighed unhappily, recognizing that Oakmoss was right but not really liking how this conversation was going.
"What is wrong?" Oakmoss asked.
At this, Celestia shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "I realize you are right, but I am really supposed to be learning how to control a dragon. I am not sure how to do that, though, in a situation where you have more experience than I do."
Oakmoss immediately felt guilty. "I am sorry," he apologized. "I guess that I am out of my depth. Try imitating others Riders-in-training."
Celestia scrunched up her face. "Well, the main thing they do is just drill on a few simple commands all day," she said. "I always thought it was a silly game for children, though. Experienced riders and dragons use silent commands, eye-contact, and just knowing each other."
"Let me remind you," Oakmoss pointed out, "that you are still a child, by more enlightened thinking. Besides, I imagine that it will ultimately slow us down if we take ourselves too seriously. If we made it like a game, we might feel better about it."
"Then let me start with this one, I guess," Celestia said with a little smile, and then she barked, "Dragon!"
"Yes?" Oakmoss replied.
"When I address you, I want you to reply, 'Rider, yes, Rider,'" she commanded, "and sit on your haunches, with your head raised attentively. Is that understood?"
"Rider, yes, Rider," Oakmoss replied.
"Dragon!" she shouted.
Oakmoss dropped to his haunches, with one wing sticking out sloppily and his tail swished out casually to the side. "Like this?" he asked.
"Pull in that wing," she said firmly, "and wrap your tail around to your right-hand side to get it out of the way. There: much tidier. Stand up, and let's try again. This time, try getting out the response. Dragon!"
For several minutes, they just drilled on this simple command. Soon enough, Oakmoss began getting good at it, and he was reacting to her command as a sort of reflex. After a while, Celestia signaled that she had had enough, and by this point, both girl and dragon were giggling.
"That was fun, but we haven't gotten much done, in regard to gathering ingredients," she admitted. "We have just played a game like four-year-olds."
"It was fun, though," Oakmoss said encouragingly, "and besides, have you ever taken people seriously if they took obedience too seriously?"
"Well, even though it's a serious thing in battle," Celestia admitted, "you are right. It is very difficult to take someone seriously if they take this sort of thing too much to heart. You and I are both intelligent creatures, after all. We just don't have to restrict ourselves to only doing intelligent things, I suppose."
"Besides," Oakmoss added, "what could be less intelligent than war?"
Celestia looked a little chagrined. "War is a strange human custom," she acknowledged. "Well, let's see if we can use our game in a more practical sort of way. I guess it will seem less silly, once we have gotten to be more fluid at it. Dragon!"
After a half-second's hesitation, Oakmoss dropped again to his haunches. "Rider...yes, Rider?" he said.
"Dragon, report: in your experience, what is the value of yarrow, dragon?" Celestia asked.
"Rider, it is most likely less costly to purchase it from a local hedgewitch than squander opportunities to procure something of greater value, Rider," Oakmoss replied.
"Dragon, in our immediate vicinity, what actually is likely to have value, dragon?"
"Rider, nobody thinks to stock calendula, which is abundant in this area, Rider."
"Dragon, good, I would never have thought to gather marigolds for that purpose! That's why they are so expensive, I guess. I could use some extracts of those to make a skin-cream, since those are known to reduce the likelihood of melanomas. You will accompany me to harvest some marigolds, and I request that you walk with me at heel, with your forepaw falling in step with mine approximately one inch in its wake. Is that clear, dragon?"
"Rider, yes, Rider!" And with that, the gracious, young scholar and the dragon that appeared to be a mossy oak tree marched forth, both of them giggling frequently as the dragon tried to learn to not actually step on her heels.
"Open afresh your round of starry folds, ye ardent marigolds!" Oakmoss cried out humorously as they went out on their venture. "Dry up the moisture from your golden lids."
"For great Apollo bids," Celestia rejoindered, "That in these days your praises should be sung."