// think of the sun that shaped them //
While Mittens still fixed its beady eyed stare upon Maea, as if daring her to try something else, Lena surveyed the scene, sighing as more of the flowers she’d picked for their bright, wondrous hues, slid away – either gone with the wind, the dragon’s wings, or anything else. Instead, she traversed back to where she’d snagged her initial few, pushing past several brushes and nettles, thorns and vines, for the right sort. “If you’d like,” she honored with a gentle shrug; utilizing the breath in her chest to retain the remaining portions of her calm demeanor.
Plucking a similar orange flower, she placed it in her hand with the other uncrushed fathoms of berries and blooms, returning to arrange them back upon pillars and columns, before repeating the gestures in another area. Perhaps she should have been tending to Maea’s clear aversions and discomfort, but given what the Caretaker had just gone through, with zero regards for either herself or Mittens, when she would’ve never done the same to the Ancient, her patience was a little rattled and thin.
Pushing past another bush and finding some lavender hued flowers, she granted a relieved sigh, before managing to convey something to Maea. “I think it’s being aware of your surroundings. Or the impact such a shift would have.” She trusted the Ancient knew better – hadn’t she been a part of the lore seekers – to understand the nuances behind the lore of black dragons. To comprehend what she was doing. It shouldn’t have taken that much consideration at all.
As for the Oerwoud, she tilted her head, contemplating how many portions she’d traversed through. “Some parts, though not often.”
Plucking a similar orange flower, she placed it in her hand with the other uncrushed fathoms of berries and blooms, returning to arrange them back upon pillars and columns, before repeating the gestures in another area. Perhaps she should have been tending to Maea’s clear aversions and discomfort, but given what the Caretaker had just gone through, with zero regards for either herself or Mittens, when she would’ve never done the same to the Ancient, her patience was a little rattled and thin.
Pushing past another bush and finding some lavender hued flowers, she granted a relieved sigh, before managing to convey something to Maea. “I think it’s being aware of your surroundings. Or the impact such a shift would have.” She trusted the Ancient knew better – hadn’t she been a part of the lore seekers – to understand the nuances behind the lore of black dragons. To comprehend what she was doing. It shouldn’t have taken that much consideration at all.
As for the Oerwoud, she tilted her head, contemplating how many portions she’d traversed through. “Some parts, though not often.”
Lena
// the speck of truth that's ours //
