It’s a lie they both shamelessly pretend to believe in, but Evie’s small smile is relieved, grateful for the act if nothing else. At least it means Melita respects the Evergreen’s worry enough to cater to it, even if it won’t divert her from her path. Not that Evie had expected it to. They’d both leapt into that landshark hunt, it would be hypocritical of her to try and convince the Honeybee to retreat from a battle that was yet to be waged.
The young woman’s immediate excitement is contagious, and Evie laughs as she turns to the empty planters box on the table she’d been leaning against, encouraging Melita - and her newly snagged seat - closer to witness the events up close. [say]“So first we encourage them to grow their shoots,”[/say] she begins, taking on a cadence not unlike a patient teacher in a classroom. The seeds do exactly that in her palms, little shoots of greenery winding their way out of the seeds, tiny leaves beginning to stem. [say]“Then we plant them, so they can take the nutrients from the soil in exchange for growth, so it’s not as magically exhausting.”[/say] This time the word rolls free without a wince or hitch of breath, hesitation all but eradicated in the face of mentorship and education. Experienced hands dig small holes evenly spaced out along the box, where the seeds are then planted and covered, leaving only the greenery exposed. [say]“And now we grow them!”[/say] With her palms pressed to the soil she commands them to do exactly that. Half of them spiderweb out horizontally in intricate patterns of green, while the other half shoot upwards eagerly. Pods form soon after, ripening before their eyes, and Evie laughs slightly as their growth completes and she takes her hands away. [say]“These ones here are winter peas, which makes sense why they were at the festival given the season. They’re used for ground cover and are great for high yielding crops. And these taller ones here are fava beans. Same family, but very different result.”[/say] Plucking the pods from both, she hands them to Melita with a smile. [say]“Both very edible. Try them!”[/say]
The young woman’s immediate excitement is contagious, and Evie laughs as she turns to the empty planters box on the table she’d been leaning against, encouraging Melita - and her newly snagged seat - closer to witness the events up close. [say]“So first we encourage them to grow their shoots,”[/say] she begins, taking on a cadence not unlike a patient teacher in a classroom. The seeds do exactly that in her palms, little shoots of greenery winding their way out of the seeds, tiny leaves beginning to stem. [say]“Then we plant them, so they can take the nutrients from the soil in exchange for growth, so it’s not as magically exhausting.”[/say] This time the word rolls free without a wince or hitch of breath, hesitation all but eradicated in the face of mentorship and education. Experienced hands dig small holes evenly spaced out along the box, where the seeds are then planted and covered, leaving only the greenery exposed. [say]“And now we grow them!”[/say] With her palms pressed to the soil she commands them to do exactly that. Half of them spiderweb out horizontally in intricate patterns of green, while the other half shoot upwards eagerly. Pods form soon after, ripening before their eyes, and Evie laughs slightly as their growth completes and she takes her hands away. [say]“These ones here are winter peas, which makes sense why they were at the festival given the season. They’re used for ground cover and are great for high yielding crops. And these taller ones here are fava beans. Same family, but very different result.”[/say] Plucking the pods from both, she hands them to Melita with a smile. [say]“Both very edible. Try them!”[/say]
