The gardens seem to sigh as Phoebe begins to peel herself out of their grasp. As the heady breeze wafts through the tree branches, its as though they're whispering for her not to go. Because there's so much more for such a lovely young lady for her to see - all she needs to do is go and look. Hedge mazes and topiaries and hidden, secret little ponds to frolic in, all just for you Phoebe--
But alas she is making her way to the break in the trees, and their grasp on her is fading quickly. With every step the scents grow fainter, the trees seem further away, the beautiful blooms grow smaller and weaker, until... until...
Until Phoebe stands in Meadowreach, at what ought to be the height of Flowerbirth. But there is snow on the ground, and the budding carpet of flowers is nowhere to be seen. And neither is the garden that existed so vividly just a moment ago.
...And just how long has she been gone, exactly?
But alas she is making her way to the break in the trees, and their grasp on her is fading quickly. With every step the scents grow fainter, the trees seem further away, the beautiful blooms grow smaller and weaker, until... until...
Until Phoebe stands in Meadowreach, at what ought to be the height of Flowerbirth. But there is snow on the ground, and the budding carpet of flowers is nowhere to be seen. And neither is the garden that existed so vividly just a moment ago.
...And just how long has she been gone, exactly?
