Promenade (Open)
Posted: Mon Jun 30, 2014 2:15 pm
The cherry blossoms were doing well. Mist reached out and nosed the silky green leaves, teasing the spindly branches. Delicate, but resilient--they sprung back into place as she moved on, with nary a disturbance. They did not need her, but she attended them fondly. It was nice to take care of something.
The grove lay at the edge of Cedar’s forest, where Sive’s borders bled into the Field lands, thus it fell to her naturally--Cedar never strayed outward, so between them they maintained the balance. Lately he’d been giving her more and more of the periphery (she’d caught his books’ words slipping easily into her thought patterns now), slowly withdrawing deeper into the secluded heart. Sometimes she worried about the distance, as a ship perhaps would worry about its anchor in the depths, but all she needed to do was pull and the bond would be there, comfortably solid. Besides, he had entrusted her with much that needed her attention--she’d enlisted Eve’s help for the tamer thickets, and Trite’s sunlight to rejuvenate a few starved grottos. And Avalir had a touch like hers, their Forest Song lineage pairing easily enough that they could almost match Cedar in the rough spots, but that--well, she’d certainly have a backlog of tasks for him when he got back. Definitely. Till then--
“Lovely work you’ve done here,” came a voice over her shoulder. Ah, she’d almost forgotten. Mist turned and smiled at her companion.
“Thanks Confetti, but I really can’t take much credit.” She turned her eyes back to the heavy branches. “I’m lucky these guys can take care of themselves.”
She felt his gaze linger on her, counted the seconds and pretended not to notice, until he gave a contemplative ‘hn’ and slid past her. There was always a bite of winter in his wake, and the leaves trembled on their branches, their edges furling slightly. Frowning, she summoned the summer into her breath and blew, coaxing them back to normal. Well, Confetti couldn’t help it; it would be like telling a tsunami to watch its wind. Still, she should catch up to him--damage control and all that.
It was really silly of her to have the Elemental walk with her like this, his very presence undermining her careful tasks, but she considered it another one of her new responsibilities. Usually it would be Avalir, adjusting the newcomers in his quiet way, but he was not here and Mist was pretty sure he’d have a tough time of it anyways. Confetti was...um, a unique individual? A free agent, he called himself. So far he’d shown little interest in any of his bondmates, save the Warriors and herself. Perhaps it was her Rogue parentage, though there was little evidence of its mark on her save for her curse, at least as far as she could tell. Her reserves were already draining as she fixed the small touches of frost here and there--yep, she was definitely not gifted. Now if only Confetti would believe that, and stop testing all the time, she was sure they could be good friends.
“Must be gorgeous during spring,” he remarked offhandedly, interrupting her train of thought. She didn’t even look at him this time, rearing up to melt some ice crystals on the higher branches--how did it even go up there?
“Hm? Oh, yeah, it’s very pretty, like a pink snowdrift, petals everywhere.” She nipped off one of the small branches too far gone for even her, feeling a small stab of guilt as it dropped softly to the ground. “Um, Confetti, if you wouldn’t mind walking just a touch further from the trees--”
“Darling, for you I’d make this whole grove blossom as it never has before.” He laughed as he cantered past her, his tail lashing playfully across her chest. “Well, if one of the sisters had been born in spring, perhaps. Dead seasons, all of them, no wonder they’re a mess.”
“Sive is summer born, though.” She did a quick pass through the remaining trees, surveying the remaining blemishes. Little bit here and there, but they’d survive.
“Storm season. Rains enough to drown these pretty branches, winds enough to raze them.” This time Mist met his eyes, gilded silver to her iridescent gold. If there was anything Rogue-touched about her, it was her eyes, and there she held him.
“Roots run deep, Confetti,” she said, finally, quietly. “And storms pass.” A beat, then she smiled brightly again. “Come on, there are a few more places I need to check.”
She spun about, setting a wide path away from the trees, and after a few moments she felt him follow, humming quietly to himself. Yes, better to keep him with her here, regardless of the cold--just something else to take care of. Mist allowed herself a small smile. She was getting good at this.
((Muse started to bite All welcome!))
The grove lay at the edge of Cedar’s forest, where Sive’s borders bled into the Field lands, thus it fell to her naturally--Cedar never strayed outward, so between them they maintained the balance. Lately he’d been giving her more and more of the periphery (she’d caught his books’ words slipping easily into her thought patterns now), slowly withdrawing deeper into the secluded heart. Sometimes she worried about the distance, as a ship perhaps would worry about its anchor in the depths, but all she needed to do was pull and the bond would be there, comfortably solid. Besides, he had entrusted her with much that needed her attention--she’d enlisted Eve’s help for the tamer thickets, and Trite’s sunlight to rejuvenate a few starved grottos. And Avalir had a touch like hers, their Forest Song lineage pairing easily enough that they could almost match Cedar in the rough spots, but that--well, she’d certainly have a backlog of tasks for him when he got back. Definitely. Till then--
“Lovely work you’ve done here,” came a voice over her shoulder. Ah, she’d almost forgotten. Mist turned and smiled at her companion.
“Thanks Confetti, but I really can’t take much credit.” She turned her eyes back to the heavy branches. “I’m lucky these guys can take care of themselves.”
She felt his gaze linger on her, counted the seconds and pretended not to notice, until he gave a contemplative ‘hn’ and slid past her. There was always a bite of winter in his wake, and the leaves trembled on their branches, their edges furling slightly. Frowning, she summoned the summer into her breath and blew, coaxing them back to normal. Well, Confetti couldn’t help it; it would be like telling a tsunami to watch its wind. Still, she should catch up to him--damage control and all that.
It was really silly of her to have the Elemental walk with her like this, his very presence undermining her careful tasks, but she considered it another one of her new responsibilities. Usually it would be Avalir, adjusting the newcomers in his quiet way, but he was not here and Mist was pretty sure he’d have a tough time of it anyways. Confetti was...um, a unique individual? A free agent, he called himself. So far he’d shown little interest in any of his bondmates, save the Warriors and herself. Perhaps it was her Rogue parentage, though there was little evidence of its mark on her save for her curse, at least as far as she could tell. Her reserves were already draining as she fixed the small touches of frost here and there--yep, she was definitely not gifted. Now if only Confetti would believe that, and stop testing all the time, she was sure they could be good friends.
“Must be gorgeous during spring,” he remarked offhandedly, interrupting her train of thought. She didn’t even look at him this time, rearing up to melt some ice crystals on the higher branches--how did it even go up there?
“Hm? Oh, yeah, it’s very pretty, like a pink snowdrift, petals everywhere.” She nipped off one of the small branches too far gone for even her, feeling a small stab of guilt as it dropped softly to the ground. “Um, Confetti, if you wouldn’t mind walking just a touch further from the trees--”
“Darling, for you I’d make this whole grove blossom as it never has before.” He laughed as he cantered past her, his tail lashing playfully across her chest. “Well, if one of the sisters had been born in spring, perhaps. Dead seasons, all of them, no wonder they’re a mess.”
“Sive is summer born, though.” She did a quick pass through the remaining trees, surveying the remaining blemishes. Little bit here and there, but they’d survive.
“Storm season. Rains enough to drown these pretty branches, winds enough to raze them.” This time Mist met his eyes, gilded silver to her iridescent gold. If there was anything Rogue-touched about her, it was her eyes, and there she held him.
“Roots run deep, Confetti,” she said, finally, quietly. “And storms pass.” A beat, then she smiled brightly again. “Come on, there are a few more places I need to check.”
She spun about, setting a wide path away from the trees, and after a few moments she felt him follow, humming quietly to himself. Yes, better to keep him with her here, regardless of the cold--just something else to take care of. Mist allowed herself a small smile. She was getting good at this.
((Muse started to bite All welcome!))