Panacea
Panacea nods her head. She has seen plenty of pissed off sailors, and she does enjoy the site of their frustration. The day the lands truly bends to man, is a day that she prays she never sees. Smiling Panacea says "I apologize. Despite my rough living, I am afraid some niceties and courtesies were drilled into my head as a child.". Panacea prefers less formalities when dealing with the general public. She feels that it is easier to be honest and to know when she is being tricked.
Flora walks closer as she speaks, and Panacea glances around with her taking in a view that she knows will be different tomorrow. "Oh, I definitely find myself in strange places from time to time. On more than one occasion I have found myself floating on my mattress in the middle of the ocean."[/says] Panacea chuckles [says]"Mostly the island enjoys warping itself around me. It may enjoy all the flora I help to bring to it, or maybe it enjoys my company. I do hope I never learn the true mystery behind why it does what it does. I also hope it never stops messing with the sailors who wander too close. I really enjoy their frustrations."[/says]. Shaking her head and continuing to laugh, she thinks of more than one occasion where a sailor has lost their boat, or has spent days lost trying to reach the mainland.
Panacea smiles again as Flora reaches her [says]"Well [i]Flora[i], I have plenty of drinks to go around, if you would like to come in. It is a nice day, I have floral teas, drinks, or if you are more like me, something a little stronger. I would apologize for the mess inside, but I feel that you may appreciate what use I make of this ever changing land."[/says] Panacea gestures for Flora to follow behind her into her small home.
Once inside the single story home, Panacea takes a deep breathe and fills herself with the sometimes overwhelming smells from the plants she keeps inside. Hanging from the rafters are plants that she has grown and harvested, now drying to be used at a later time. There is a small fire going in her hearth, with a chipped and well loved large pot hanging over it. Panacea always has boiled water, both to make her remedies but also for hygiene. On her work bench are books, tools, mortars and pestles with a plethora of plants in various forms from being whole to being worked into dust.
Panacea guides Flora over to a table made of drift wood and offers her a seat made of the same worn material. She props open the small square window above the table to allow for the sea air to join them, and turns back to Flora. "Well then. Welcome to my home. What can I get you?"
Flora walks closer as she speaks, and Panacea glances around with her taking in a view that she knows will be different tomorrow. "Oh, I definitely find myself in strange places from time to time. On more than one occasion I have found myself floating on my mattress in the middle of the ocean."[/says] Panacea chuckles [says]"Mostly the island enjoys warping itself around me. It may enjoy all the flora I help to bring to it, or maybe it enjoys my company. I do hope I never learn the true mystery behind why it does what it does. I also hope it never stops messing with the sailors who wander too close. I really enjoy their frustrations."[/says]. Shaking her head and continuing to laugh, she thinks of more than one occasion where a sailor has lost their boat, or has spent days lost trying to reach the mainland.
Panacea smiles again as Flora reaches her [says]"Well [i]Flora[i], I have plenty of drinks to go around, if you would like to come in. It is a nice day, I have floral teas, drinks, or if you are more like me, something a little stronger. I would apologize for the mess inside, but I feel that you may appreciate what use I make of this ever changing land."[/says] Panacea gestures for Flora to follow behind her into her small home.
Once inside the single story home, Panacea takes a deep breathe and fills herself with the sometimes overwhelming smells from the plants she keeps inside. Hanging from the rafters are plants that she has grown and harvested, now drying to be used at a later time. There is a small fire going in her hearth, with a chipped and well loved large pot hanging over it. Panacea always has boiled water, both to make her remedies but also for hygiene. On her work bench are books, tools, mortars and pestles with a plethora of plants in various forms from being whole to being worked into dust.
Panacea guides Flora over to a table made of drift wood and offers her a seat made of the same worn material. She props open the small square window above the table to allow for the sea air to join them, and turns back to Flora. "Well then. Welcome to my home. What can I get you?"
// He who has health, has hope. He who has hope, has everything. //
// Take a breath and let the rest come easy //
// Take a breath and let the rest come easy //
