Isla
Soaking in everything that Remi wants to tell her about the Greatwood, old and new, Isla tries to peep around the cascade of lavender that covers one side of La Verbena, leaning out precariously over the railing. "And does it really sing?" she asks, of course having read more than one history of the place. From this height the only thing Isla can really hear is the hush of falling water and the chirp of songbirds at dusk, but that's plenty of music, if it's what the Greatwood is able to offer.
"Of course you've met her," she says of the goddess of the Greatwood; even if Remi hadn't been Guardian of the woods at the time, she'd expect as much from him. "Maybe we should go and pay her tree a visit while we're here, then," she suggests, but already she's distracted by the banks of the Stone Symphony that are growing steadily closer. "You know how to land this thing, right?"
"Of course you've met her," she says of the goddess of the Greatwood; even if Remi hadn't been Guardian of the woods at the time, she'd expect as much from him. "Maybe we should go and pay her tree a visit while we're here, then," she suggests, but already she's distracted by the banks of the Stone Symphony that are growing steadily closer. "You know how to land this thing, right?"
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
