Flora
There is something about the way Kaisel reacts to the pun—first the moment of utter blankness, then that grin that seems to pull all the warmth in his face up beneath his eyes—that keeps Flora’s own smile from behaving. It is one of the things she loves most about them, perhaps: that her teasing never needs to arrive armoured, and his never asks her to pretend she isn’t delighted by it. The little bright bursts of heat that flicker down the bond are answer enough, brief and buoyant, and she lets her satisfaction curl through the connection in return without trying to make it into anything subtler than it is.
As Kaisel begins explaining the outings, Flora’s expression softens as she tries to picture him as a boy in Stormbreak, trekking after the older Dragoons through Longheat with a knot of other children, all of them presumably armed to the teeth with wooden weapons and singing terribly because someone had decided that was better than letting them get bored. Then she remembers that she does not actually have to imagine. "Show me."
Her magic reaches forward gently, catching on the thought as it forms rather than tugging at it, and the Undergrove ahead of them fills with the pale, living echo of another set of adventurers. A younger Kaisel appears first, smaller but already unmistakable, marching with the sort of confidence children possess when they have been told they are doing something important. A few other boys move with him, all of them headed purposefully onward beneath the bright, remembered shape of Stormbreak’s Longheat, their figures wavering lightly between the roots as though the jungle has decided to grow a second memory alongside its fungus and leaves.
Flora watches them for a few moments with a softness she does not bother hiding, then lets the image drift away as Kaisel accuses her of being botanist about it. "I’m not assuming the forests are the same. I’m assuming predators are." Her brows lift, because on that point she is quite certain she is right. "Or they got all of you singing so you’d forget about kicking each other’s shins or blowing spitballs down each other’s necks while you wandered along." Having grown up with both a twin and an older brother, Flora isn’t remotely ignorant of the sorts of shenanigans boys get up to when they’re bored and given a stretch of jungle to cross
The path begins to loosen as they travel, the roots no longer crowding so tightly together beneath their boots. It opens into a shallow pocket of the Undergrove where the ground is mostly flat beneath a scattered quilt of damp leaves and strange luminescent growth, with enough room between the twisting supports overhead to pitch a tent without fighting the entire jungle for it. There is no grand view to speak of, only the soft green-blue spill of light along the roots and the low hush of the jungle settling around them.
Flora nudges Kaisel with one shoulder, looking up at him with one brow already raised. "Alright then, scout leader. What do you think? Here, or farther in?"
As Kaisel begins explaining the outings, Flora’s expression softens as she tries to picture him as a boy in Stormbreak, trekking after the older Dragoons through Longheat with a knot of other children, all of them presumably armed to the teeth with wooden weapons and singing terribly because someone had decided that was better than letting them get bored. Then she remembers that she does not actually have to imagine. "Show me."
Her magic reaches forward gently, catching on the thought as it forms rather than tugging at it, and the Undergrove ahead of them fills with the pale, living echo of another set of adventurers. A younger Kaisel appears first, smaller but already unmistakable, marching with the sort of confidence children possess when they have been told they are doing something important. A few other boys move with him, all of them headed purposefully onward beneath the bright, remembered shape of Stormbreak’s Longheat, their figures wavering lightly between the roots as though the jungle has decided to grow a second memory alongside its fungus and leaves.
Flora watches them for a few moments with a softness she does not bother hiding, then lets the image drift away as Kaisel accuses her of being botanist about it. "I’m not assuming the forests are the same. I’m assuming predators are." Her brows lift, because on that point she is quite certain she is right. "Or they got all of you singing so you’d forget about kicking each other’s shins or blowing spitballs down each other’s necks while you wandered along." Having grown up with both a twin and an older brother, Flora isn’t remotely ignorant of the sorts of shenanigans boys get up to when they’re bored and given a stretch of jungle to cross
The path begins to loosen as they travel, the roots no longer crowding so tightly together beneath their boots. It opens into a shallow pocket of the Undergrove where the ground is mostly flat beneath a scattered quilt of damp leaves and strange luminescent growth, with enough room between the twisting supports overhead to pitch a tent without fighting the entire jungle for it. There is no grand view to speak of, only the soft green-blue spill of light along the roots and the low hush of the jungle settling around them.
Flora nudges Kaisel with one shoulder, looking up at him with one brow already raised. "Alright then, scout leader. What do you think? Here, or farther in?"
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Code stolen from Queen Sky
