the difference between a garden
AND A GRAVEYARD
AND A GRAVEYARD
Enzo is neither the type to kiss her knuckles nor to wink or grin roguishly, so instead he pumps her hand firmly and grind to beat the sun. Committing her name to memory is an easy task, neatly notated just like the list of names and uses of various plants in the Greatwood, scrawled on the walls of his mind.
Leaning in closer in tandem as Alex does so, Enzo’s eyes brighten with emerald fire at the notion of a profession(?) such as piracy. Or so it’s implied - captains who go toe-to-toe with merchants don’t leave many other options. His grin turns Cheshire at the edges, pleased by the resonance of inherent mischief he can feel in her that harmonizes with his own. “So you have a boat then? I grew up in one, but it wasn’t much for sailing. I’m sure yours is much better,” he simpers, unafraid to use flattery as a tool. “I had a dress made for my sister as a surprise, which is not nearly as interesting.” Chuckling, he leans back into the chair, kicking his feet out to elongate his legs ahead of him.
Leaning in closer in tandem as Alex does so, Enzo’s eyes brighten with emerald fire at the notion of a profession(?) such as piracy. Or so it’s implied - captains who go toe-to-toe with merchants don’t leave many other options. His grin turns Cheshire at the edges, pleased by the resonance of inherent mischief he can feel in her that harmonizes with his own. “So you have a boat then? I grew up in one, but it wasn’t much for sailing. I’m sure yours is much better,” he simpers, unafraid to use flattery as a tool. “I had a dress made for my sister as a surprise, which is not nearly as interesting.” Chuckling, he leans back into the chair, kicking his feet out to elongate his legs ahead of him.
is what you choose to put in the soil
ENZO
