Not just a fighter, not just a dreamer
Amazing creator, relentless believer
In who I am and what I got inside
Amazing creator, relentless believer
In who I am and what I got inside
Considering, Seren eventually nodded. Picking up the jar in both hands - it was quite big - she smiled at Maeve, her eyes crinkling into crescents above the edge of the mask.
"I will be careful. Please stay back. My critters have a range of about twenty feet; I would appreciate if you kept that distance to me. Just to be safe."
With a pulse of gravity, Seren decreased her weight until she was only barely touching the ground with her feet. Inching in carefully towards the closest flower, careful not to disturb the ground more than she absolutely had to, she placed the jar beside the plant and popped open the lid. Then she retreated, to what she hoped would be a safe distance, and performed her customary ritual.
Five small squirrel monkeys coalesced by her feet, blinking with starlight eyes at her. Seren smiled sadly at them, and whispered her instructions to them, one at a time. Hopefully, there would be no need to waste more than five lives, conjured from magic or not.
"Go pick the pretty flower," she told the first. And it skittered forth, quick and agile, towards the lily. Quick fingers reached out, and snapped the stem.
Immediately, the heady scent became a thick, cloying perfume that tore at her nose. Seren pressed a hand to the scarves around her mouth and nose, but still wanted to hold her breath. Heart racing, she waited; was she far enough away? Was Maeve alright?
The monkey was not. It had fallen to the ground, the flower cradled in its tiny hand as it began to shimmer and pulsate, slowly fading away.
"I will be careful. Please stay back. My critters have a range of about twenty feet; I would appreciate if you kept that distance to me. Just to be safe."
With a pulse of gravity, Seren decreased her weight until she was only barely touching the ground with her feet. Inching in carefully towards the closest flower, careful not to disturb the ground more than she absolutely had to, she placed the jar beside the plant and popped open the lid. Then she retreated, to what she hoped would be a safe distance, and performed her customary ritual.
Five small squirrel monkeys coalesced by her feet, blinking with starlight eyes at her. Seren smiled sadly at them, and whispered her instructions to them, one at a time. Hopefully, there would be no need to waste more than five lives, conjured from magic or not.
"Go pick the pretty flower," she told the first. And it skittered forth, quick and agile, towards the lily. Quick fingers reached out, and snapped the stem.
Immediately, the heady scent became a thick, cloying perfume that tore at her nose. Seren pressed a hand to the scarves around her mouth and nose, but still wanted to hold her breath. Heart racing, she waited; was she far enough away? Was Maeve alright?
The monkey was not. It had fallen to the ground, the flower cradled in its tiny hand as it began to shimmer and pulsate, slowly fading away.
Seren
