The work is swifter here. Whether it's because of the loan and sand or the Greatwood sensing her desperation and conceding, she doesn't know. Nephele isn't the abjectly faithful sort, but she will be if this heals her sister. Her home. Her entire world.
Her hands are cramped and aching as she throws her bone-spade down, the roots finally fully covered. Sweat beads across her brow and her breaths huff with exertion, but there's no time for hesitation now. Standing, she shoves her tool back in her bag, and forces her tired wings to take her skyward once more. She must go now, and pray the roses remain undisturbed without her constant guardianship.
Her hands are cramped and aching as she throws her bone-spade down, the roots finally fully covered. Sweat beads across her brow and her breaths huff with exertion, but there's no time for hesitation now. Standing, she shoves her tool back in her bag, and forces her tired wings to take her skyward once more. She must go now, and pray the roses remain undisturbed without her constant guardianship.
Your goodness must have some edge to it -- else it is none
