Melita could sense a lesson incoming, but didn’t mind, sent right back to her mother’s kitchen. Humming a little under her breath, she watched – enamored, with the process of magic courting and unfurling the seeds into their shoots, leaves, and the necessary exchanges. Her family might have loved these aspects too – to have been able to grow their own herbs and flora simply with incantations, tending, mending, and soothing the rest of the world before it fell to pieces. Her features became traces of awe, eyes widening and taking everything in, watching as hands dug into soil, placing the little sprouts within their new residence. [say]“That’s so cool,”[/say] she whispered, Sila staring out over her shoulder, Fangorn waving his vines, wanting to see too. Within a moment she’d crouched off the stool to snag him into her lap, and all three could bear witness.
Pods bloomed, winter peas existed, and then fava beans. Greedily and eagerly taking the pods proffered, the youth placed them in her mouth, content with the flavor. [say]“Nice!”[/say] Then she paused, sighing a little. [say]“Could they survive in Torchline, right now, given the cold?”[/say]
Pods bloomed, winter peas existed, and then fava beans. Greedily and eagerly taking the pods proffered, the youth placed them in her mouth, content with the flavor. [say]“Nice!”[/say] Then she paused, sighing a little. [say]“Could they survive in Torchline, right now, given the cold?”[/say]
