the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun
Withdrawing and setting down the shears as the hybrid is properly assembled, for lack of better word, Amhran finds himself standing beside his mother with a gentle smile, head cocked as if he might hear what the plant has to say for itself. Not that he can actually speak to them - at least not yet - but he nevertheless seems quietly confident in her efforts. "I believe it will turn out well," he says with a nod. "Perhaps we ought to continue watering it with spring water?" Just to ensure continued propagation as it grows, of course.
No longer toppling comically at even the slightest jostle to his centre of balance, Amhran sways a little as Evie's shoulder bumps against his own. "I would like that very much," he confirms, gesturing for her to follow him to his tray of seedlings. "I found a few of these in the Hollowed Grounds, when Deimos and I went looking for..." Gods, what had they been called? "For voidweaver spiders," he confirms at last. "And some others in Hak Etme. I am interested to see if I can help them to flourish here."
Kneeling once more beside the tray, there are a few seeds left to plant, and Amhran thinks nothing of delving once more, barehanded, into the potting soil.
No longer toppling comically at even the slightest jostle to his centre of balance, Amhran sways a little as Evie's shoulder bumps against his own. "I would like that very much," he confirms, gesturing for her to follow him to his tray of seedlings. "I found a few of these in the Hollowed Grounds, when Deimos and I went looking for..." Gods, what had they been called? "For voidweaver spiders," he confirms at last. "And some others in Hak Etme. I am interested to see if I can help them to flourish here."
Kneeling once more beside the tray, there are a few seeds left to plant, and Amhran thinks nothing of delving once more, barehanded, into the potting soil.
