[se] Only way through is to follow the fog

noah

You will become what you ought to be
Only way through is to follow the fog

Noah hadn't made it far out of the Oerwood after his interaction with Edmund. In fact, he traveled deeper into the land. He knew Cordelia was in good hands, and he honestly needed to clear his mind before heading home to her.

He found himself at the edge of a lake without intending to be there. With little purpose to his steps other than to physically move himself (for he didn't need to point himself any which way to go home -- he had a compass for that), he wasn't surprised when he found himself where he was. Perhaps it had been his bear senses that subconsciously brought him to the scent of water, or his keen ears towards the sound of the gentle lapping of the shore. Or happenstance.

In any case, Noah took some time to walk along the shoreline. Eventually, he lowered himself down to sit in a patch of lush grass. He let his hands roll over the greenery as he wrestled with his own thoughts, pushing and pulling and extracting what needed to go. As his hands rolled over some of the grass, he noticed it felt more dried out than other parts of it. Looking down, he noticed that some creature had dug up some roots. A small hum rolled, barely audible, from his lips and he cupped some water in his hand. He let it pour over the drier grass and then pressed as many roots as he could back down into the moistened soil. "There you go," He cooed to the green grass -- his favorite color.

---

Noah is tending to a patch of Sweetgrass!

Sweetgrass (common - Greatwood, Hollowed Grounds, King’s End, Oerwoud) - A tall green grass that lines riverbanks. It produces a slightly sweet, vanilla smell that attracts bugs to pollinate its light purple flowers. It is a common substitute to sugar in baking and can be found in many teas as well for its calming effect.

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

After offerings, there were always multitudes of travels to parse through, and ample forests to snag at herbs, vegetation, and anything else that might aid creatures on the mend. While Mittens floated alongside, the Caretaker strolled her way through the Mistbanks. Her pauses were numerous, crouching down to inspect newfound moss or a certain shrub, absorbed in her task and dealings, ensuring her companion stayed at her side through the vantage of a longer, leash-like scarf.

But as they strolled, she hadn’t anticipated seeing another – especially after she nearly tripped over his familiar form, sprawled amidst the forest floor. “Noah!” She stumbled, catching herself on a nearby tree, hand extended, while Mittens fought to gain some access and wallop its form into Noah’s features. Not allowing it to happen, but surprised nonetheless, the youth shook her head, rather embarrassed. “Sorry! I didn’t expect to see anyone here.” Her eyes flicked briefly back and forth, from plant to man, before her brow arched. “Nor did I think you were one for tending plants.”

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

noah

You will become what you ought to be
Only way through is to follow the fog

Surprised, too, to see someone else, Noah shifted his weight and almost stood. "Lena, hello." Noah breathed when recognition hit him. The fierce snow monster that followed her, and attempted to wriggle from her control, made the Sentinel's head cock to the side in a dog-like fashion as he settled himself back down to the posture he had chosen before. The grass swayed in the breeze around him and the purple flowers scattered throughout the green danced as if greeting the caretaker all on their own.

"I like plants." He said with a small smile forming on his lips. He didn't feel the need to get up, but instead motioned next to him for Lena to sit if she wanted to. "Before the war there wasn't much green in Halo except in the greenhouse, and I learned to cherish that."

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

She smiled in the midst of the greeting, then proceeded to explain, based on Noah’s expression, her companion. “This is Mittens. Abominable snowball.” Shrugging her shoulders, she opted to keep her attention on the plantlife and vegetation around them, intrigued by what he’d found, a light tone in her musings. "I trust you're doing well?"

Encouraged to sit, the youth did exactly that, folding her legs together and brushing her hands past long whisps of stalks close by. Mittens formed a scowl along its stone fixtures, levitating nearby, a combination of vicious watchdog and obnoxious heathen. Paying it no mind or heed, the Caretaker instead opted to listen, tilting her head too, pondering, wondering. “That’s understandable. Have you found something that interests you?” As someone who tended to others, she was always delighting in newfound creations meant to soothe and mend.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

noah

You will become what you ought to be
Only way through is to follow the fog

Noah’s lips pursed curiously and he nodded his head as if he understood, but he really didn’t. But then the light bulb went off, and he lifted his eyebrows. ”Was that the prize of that snowball fight?” He and Deimos hadn’t made it that far, choosing the wrong tactics for that kind of fight.

”I was wondering about trying to translplant some of this there.” He gestured to the Sweetgrass. ”But I don’t think that its hardy enough for Halo, even now that Rae has gifted us with what we’ve named the Greenwing.” It was a beautiful place with more green than Halo had ever seen all at once (at least, any living Halovians), but it was still cold. Temperatures would drop, and only the hardiest of flora could live in the tundra.

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Lena’s brows went up too – for Noah had been the only one to ever ask her. “Yes. I stayed in my fox form and found a little castle, and there it was.” At the companion’s mentioning, Mittens spun its head around again, opting to glare the Sentinel’s way for no apparent reason – other than perhaps a reaction.

As for the other notions of transplanting some of the various flora, her gaze meandered to the sweetgrass. A wonderful plant, sweet and delicious, used in all kinds of baking. “Hm. I heard Halo had a greenhouse though.” She paused, wondering if the little thing would even make it back to the snowy climate. “Would it be able to survive in there?”

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

noah

You will become what you ought to be
Only way through is to follow the fog

The fierceness in the companion's actions made sense to him. If it had been the prize at the end of the snowball fight, there was certainly a frozen warrior's heart within its tiny breast. Noah smiled some, "Clever." Noah let his eyes move towards the glaring creature, and he couldn't help but laugh at the thing.

"Most likely." He answered, bringing his eyes back up to Lena's pretty face. "Frey gave the greenhouse some magical properties, and I don't think there's anything that wouldn't grow there. But mostly it is used for food. I'm not sure if I could justify taking up soil space that could be used for something more useful and less beautiful." Noah had no real concept of the grass's usefulness--he only liked it because of its verdant nature and its wondrous smell.

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Alas, laughter hadn’t been Mittens’ intention, and the little thing’s stony fixtures became a seething glower, makeshift brows purposefully becoming darker and bolder. Lena glanced its way with a fixed frown of her own, eternally wondering over her companion’s bizarre bitterness.

Thereafter though, she was distracted by Noah’s declarations. Most plants had their usefulness – some were simply suitable to be eaten, others with medicinal proportions, deadly portions, or notions of things in between. “Ah,” she began to state, a serene smile on her features. “But this is Sweetgrass, I believe, which is very lovely to have in any of your baked goods.” And therefore, not lacking any purpose.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

noah

You will become what you ought to be
Only way through is to follow the fog

Noah's face softened with Lena's observation and information. The differences between them were stark in this moment, even with all of their similarities. Those who grew up in the safety and stone haven of Stormbreak had a much different idea of what was truly useful compared to those that survived and clawed for life on the tundra of Halo. Once, he may have been offended by this. Surely, Korbin would have snapped at the woman. Reminded her that they didn't always get to enjoy such a thought as she entertained now. But, Noah wasn't the man he used to be, and he certainly wasn't Korbin.

And Halo wasn't the hellscape it used to be.

"You're right." He said. "Maybe taking a little back wouldn't hurt." Noah shifted to his knees and, with the companion and his ornery scowl dismissed, he began to gather some of the sweetgrass byt digging it up at the roots.

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Unaware of just how the simple notions of sweetgrass might’ve triggered other thoughts, she hummed under her breath. “I think I’ll take some for back home too,” with a light wink, carefully snagging at roots and stems away from Noah’s chosen pocket of greenery. Though they had some sweetshops amidst the stony sanction, there was nothing quite like the satisfaction of one’s own home baked goods. Perhaps she’d be able to share with patrons in the Celestine too.

From there, they could converse lightly back and forth on all necessary sentiments, before winding their way back to respective lands, new wares safely tucked within.

{FIN}

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all