EVIE
like love is a bad word
For Zuriel’s omnipresence, Evie has never seen her willingly do more than lounge in front of the hearth, so she basks in the ability to watch the entire trio with an appreciative eye before she must join them in physical labor. The promise of another round only brightens her visage; never let it be said that fun and revelry couldn’t coexist with the drudgery of work. Nodding absently as she surveys the trees in front of them, the Evergreen idly taps the blunt back of the axhead against her calf as she moves closer, intent and speculative. “Uprooting them with magic would also mean preserving every last bit of the base of the stump, roots and all.” Hefting her tool, she gestures with it to outline the shape of the closest tree. “Will we have any need for the limbs, or should we cut them off and leave them here?” Keeping them attached would mean greater difficulty transporting the trunks, but abandoning them was wasteful. Perhaps they could only preserve the thickest ones and leave them in the plaza for citizens to take for their hearths?
Regardless of his choice, Evie doesn’t dawdle much longer. Can’t stand to be motionless too long. Approaching the closest of her namesakes, she sets her magic to work moving the earth to free the roots, digging deeper and wider with each passing second to send the tree toppling.
