[se] dreaming of tomorrow

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Lena wouldn’t admit Everest’s letter had sent her somewhat reeling – a mind clouded and collected a burden of thoughts. Which was why she’d patrolled the wondrous Celestine, and after ensuring routine checks were in order, resided within the outer gardens. Here, no one could see the slight tremble in her hands, and they could stay busy, while she gathered and plucked at weeds, or set about planting.

Setting aside herbs that would need to be dried, she painstakingly crawled amidst the roots and eaves and bowed her head, gloves encircling over fingers, where even she couldn’t detect the nervous, anxious twitches, deftly scouring over a few fronds here and there. And all the while, she maintained a certain calming prowess that her mind couldn’t quite savor or center around – the myriad of inquiries bursting through the usual compliant and benevolent prowess.

What happened to Sohalia? Where had she gone? Prior conversations with Anju held more meaning than ever, and the Caretaker wished she’d taken more opportunities to sit with the young woman, dig a little deeper than the surface of their emotions. The Luminary mattered, and she should’ve been told that again and again.

Which also led to the burden of other political machinations – because who was in charge now? And how?

Mittens made some obliging caricature of a sprite as it settled near her shoulder, perhaps its way of providing some modicum of relief, but even then, she pulled at leaves and dug into the earth, hoping to ease some burdens.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

SUNJATA

isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?

Perhaps it’s in the air of research of just how he should figure out how utilize the efforts in making the town a space that doesn’t infringe on their native wildlife that draws him here. Perhaps it’s an air of closeness to Dahlia, knowing she was here, given that silent craving ever since he’d met the woman in the Refuge.

Who knows what draws him here, just that… It does. And he brings his dutiful bag of holding with him, items within that may help him to craft or repair something (or sketch out little ideas of just how the Celestine worked as well as it does). The Flood is content to wander until something catches his eye, movement that Petronella zeroes in on as she bounds around at his feet, darting toward the sound of planting to break through the grasses with a mewl of hello! to which Sunjata follows closely behind if only to ensure his headstrong, stubborn companion, doesn’t get into any trouble.

if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Mittens’ sudden and vitriolic hissing was enough to alert Lena of something incoming, and she nearly jumped out of her skin from her crouch in the soil once she saw the small sea panther, and the man following close behind. “Sorry,” she murmured, already a bundle of nerves, inquiries, and trepidation.

She quickly rose from her place amidst the garden, beginning to dust off the soil along her hands upon her apron. It wasn’t uncommon for others to wander their way through the Celestine and need to see her – and though her eyes went to the young predator nearby, she knew it wasn’t one of hers lodged within. “I’m Lena – is there anything I can do for you?”

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

SUNJATA

isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?

He had expected the mewl of hello to be directed to yet another creature in the exhibits that the Celestine has to offer, so when he steps into view of the woman there’s immediate surprise writ about his face and he immediately mentally recalls Petronella who begrudgingly obeys. “Oh no, I’m sorry.” He offers with a soft huff of a laugh, picking up the sea panther and sticking her onto his shoulder.

But as she introduces herself, his brows rise and a flash of a smile crosses his face in recognition from the letters he’d sent. “No, I was just taking a look around. I’m Sunjata, we just spoke via letters, actually.” About what he’s intending to do with King’s End, and as he looks at her more fully, his smile broadens, tugged awkwardly at the scar on the side of his face. “It’s good to meet you in person.”

if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Mittens persisted in making menacing, glowering scowls towards the sea panther, while Lena’s eyes rounded at introductions. She was probably amongst the few who’d never met the infamous demigod – but now it was calming to put a face to the name. “Oh yes! Did you need to start those anytime soon?” She had some council meeting to attend in the near future, and the massive variety of jobs keeping her busy here, but she’d also made a commitment to assisting in King’s End. “Nice to meet you as well. Welcome to the Celestine.”

Figuring it would be safe to return to her gardening, pulling along the snowball’s leash to emphasize it should cease and desist the behavior, she snagged at another herb and crouched back down amidst the earth.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

SUNJATA

isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?

Despite being mostly contained, Petronella’s attention remains on the strange patch of snow that seems to be scowling and hissing at them, before she averts her gilded gaze back to Lena with another quiet little mew. “I’m gathering supplies and connecting with people to help, but I will let you know when we start it.” Sunjata hums with a softer smile, now that the surprise has worn off.

“Thanks.” He says to the welcome, before she starts to get back to work and he eyes the abominable snowball curiously. “Do you need any help here? I’m handy and can fix things, if you need anything.” Anything to get a better idea as to what really made the Celestine tick in terms of keeping the wildlife within happy and content – though he assumes it’s mostly god natured help. Still, can't hurt to ask.

if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

“Thank you. That sounds good.” Hopefully the Caretaker wouldn’t be spread too thin with everything else, but that was a problem on her end. Her eyes went to the sea panther cub again, only leaving her patch of soil to wander through the contents of her basket, retrieving a treat, and tossing it to the little predator. “Where did you get your companion?” Mittens received one too – mostly so it would stop hissing.

Truth be told, Lena always needed some assistance here, but asking and yielding to it was another thing altogether. She wouldn’t ask him to render aid with feeding or tending to the creatures, that was her role in particular, but there was always something to do when it came to the gardens. Her eyes went towards the shed – something she’d yet to conquer entirely. “If you’d like, the door needs to be fixed,” she pointed in the direction of the aforementioned timber, clearly lopsided and broken along the hinges by one of her assistants.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

SUNJATA

isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?

He can always work with Lena as well to find the best time to embrace the work for the town in King’s End, for now though the dulling of Longheat seems to be something that has him wondering if perhaps pushing it until Leafchange might be better. Either way, Sunjata nods and the second a treat is spotted Petronella scrambles toward it in a show of feline grace. “I found her in the Oerwoud. Her littermates had been attacked by a molten tiger, she was the only survivor.” He says with a small frown that graces his face at the memory, before he shakes his head. It didn’t matter now, she had him to take care of her and he certainly would do exactly that. “Her name’s Petronella.” He adds, in case Lena wanted to speak to her by name even if the snowball seemed as if it would be more content with ripping the sea panther to shreds.

Sunjata inherently trusts that Lena won’t let that happen when she suggests that the door needs to be fixed. And he nods, looking over toward it to see just what kind of state it’s in. Approaching it, he notes that while it does hang lopsided and broken, there’s rot through it that makes it unsalvageable aside from the hinges and the handle, and with a quick glance around finds a small pile of wood, likely used for wall structures or for the edges of the very gardens that Lena is working on. “Is it alright if I use some of this?” He asks, hoisting up a few pieces of the wood, already imagining how to fit them together.

if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Her brows furrowed slightly, having not heard of the sea panthers reaching so far out – but perhaps it had been by circumstance and misfortune, rather than any planned event. “Well, congratulations. I’m sure she’s grateful to you.” Her smile went to Petronella, and she might’ve snagged another treat for the little cub had Mittens not protested, or she had to mind and tend to the portions of the garden.

Sunjata seemed to be in agreement though, and so her head went down, plucking more weeds in deft operation. His question made her pause, but only for a moment, eyes glancing towards the small pile of wood. One of her assistants likely left it there for future purposes, but based on how quickly the world altered and they with it, had probably never gotten around to it. “Go ahead. Hopefully there’s plenty for you. But let me know if there isn’t, and I can fetch some.” It’d take a while to get to the market and back, but nonetheless, it would free her mind from other things too.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

SUNJATA

isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?

“She is, from what I can gather.” Sunjata offers with a small amused smile. His gaze drifts toward the snowball again, leaving Petronella on the ground to hopefully avoid the creature so she can chase the random butterflies that cross over the grasses of the garden while he gets to work.

At her permission, Sunjata nods and moves to the door, pulling out the tools he’ll need from his bag of holding, unscrewing the door from its hinges and removing the handle to keep the parts that were good, before taking a quick measurement with the current situation, and he settles in with the pieces of wood to craft them together to fix the door for the shed. But in terms of idle chatter, he glances back over toward Lena and nods his head toward her companion. “How did you get your companion?” He asks curiously, with a tone that seems to also ask what is it?

if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Mittens, satisfied that the sea panther had found butterflies to chase instead of being anywhere near itself, settled for humming random phrases and motions under its breath and hovering above Lena’s shoulder. The Caretaker, used to the notions, simply shrugged and smiled, moving more weeds away from precious soil, and making room for new herbs to settle in.

She could hear him working thereafter, and when nothing came but inquiries about her companion (a common happenstance – Lena understood and wasn’t tired of them), she had to permit one light round of laughter. “One of those strange events we always somehow get pulled to – this one had ice castles. Felt like a dream. But Mittens was there, and bonded to me when I reached a certain point.”

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

SUNJATA

isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?

Tearing apart the boards and starting to fit them together with a multitude of nails and glue he’d found in the shed, Sunjata’s content to work away and listen to the story. He hadn’t been a part of an ice castle dream, (quietly thankful for it given his preferences for snow), but he hums a soft laugh in response as well, casting a glance back toward the snowball that seems to be content and no longer wanting to tear Nella’s throat out.

The sea panther is still content chasing butterflies, even when she catches one between her large gangly paws, smashing it and tearing into the wings of it first before she lays down to lick the rest of the evidence from her webbed paws. “Huh.” Sunjata offers, getting the size of the door right as he starts to lay out where the hinges would go. “I’ve seen very few unique companions around. My niece has a vampire gourd.” He offers with an easy smile over Lena’s way.

if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

“Oh? A vampire gourd? I wasn’t aware any had ever become companions.” The notion made her smile as she poured more soil over a newly planted seed, imagining the little beasts somehow segmenting their way into another’s heart and soul. Then again, probably no one would think of abominable snowballs attaching themselves to others either, and here she was. “It’s nice to hear that so many find their way to others.” Even those considered antagonizing, if a little obnoxious, deep within the Grounds.

She moved on to another portion of the garden, hard at work while Mittens watched the sea panther with evil and malicious intentions, a glare vivid in its rocky adornments. She hummed under her breath, a measure to calm the vicious little creature, while she snagged at other inquiries. “Have you had many void creatures around King’s End lately?”

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

SUNJATA

isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?

“I didn’t think it was possible either, admittedly.” Sunjata agrees with a soft chuckle while he works, thinking about Fangorn and how the gourd varied from those he’d ruthlessly dealt with in the Grounds years upon years ago. It’s a thought that has him glancing back over toward the snowball, wondering if it were similar for mittens in a sense.

The door starts to fit together nicely, though, and once everything dries enough Sunjata begins to nail in the supports and screw in the hinges and the handle, frowning slightly at the door with Lena’s question. “Unfortunately, yes.” He says with a soft sigh. “Our unicorns have been affected. As well as the river stars, some of the villis, some hanging snakes.” His nose wrinkles as he lifts the door with the ease of his strength to set it up and ensure that it’s the correct size for the shed, all while Petronella continues to clean her paws and face from the guts of the butterfly, completely ignorant of the hisses from the snowball.

if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire