Evie
For you are made of nebulas and novas and night sky
You're made of memories you bury
You're made of memories you bury
Evie is outside the Citadel walls, still within sight of the doors but a lone figure out on the shallow waters and soaked tundra. Armed with a large bag, she is a solitary flame amidst the mud and debris, hair still in the topknot she’d thrown it into the night of the impact. Neither she nor Deimos have slept, and any sleep has been in small snatches of unwilling capitulation when leaned up against one of the infirmary walls or inside the greenhouse. It doesn’t stop her from marching through the mud, sprinkling seeds and using her magic to grow them immediately.
Like a ribbon of color, a swathe of new growth stretches out in a curved line marking where Evie has passed. Ferns, creeping phlox, juniper, violets, catmint. Anything low to the ground that won’t impede visuals from the top of the wall that can burrow deep and aid in reversing any erosion sits in her giant bag, ready to be utilized. Sweat gathers on her brow, and she wipes it away idly between growth periods, stubbornly making her way around the walls. She doubts she’ll make it as far as she wants to, but the tundra isn’t used to flood periods, and she needs to start working on erosion control now. As she works she evaporates what water she can with that limb of her magic, not wanting the new sprouts to be waterlogged and either before they can achieve what she has planned for them.
Like a ribbon of color, a swathe of new growth stretches out in a curved line marking where Evie has passed. Ferns, creeping phlox, juniper, violets, catmint. Anything low to the ground that won’t impede visuals from the top of the wall that can burrow deep and aid in reversing any erosion sits in her giant bag, ready to be utilized. Sweat gathers on her brow, and she wipes it away idly between growth periods, stubbornly making her way around the walls. She doubts she’ll make it as far as she wants to, but the tundra isn’t used to flood periods, and she needs to start working on erosion control now. As she works she evaporates what water she can with that limb of her magic, not wanting the new sprouts to be waterlogged and either before they can achieve what she has planned for them.
Or memories you live by
