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11-13-2014, 03:02 PM
The sprawling green canopy which rode above the back of the tree-girl offered a small amount of dappled shade as the pair spoke at length in company of the shimmery-red dragon.
Though tired from the journey both outside of Helovia, and through, the warm sunlight was absorbed by the ravenous leaves and her energy level remained fairly stable – only when the moon’s cold face assumed the sun’s throne would Fig know the truth of her fatigue and be forced to rest. Soft cherry blossom petals torn by the persistent wind from their trees, fluttered playfully, hopelessly, through the air around them while the young Lignea listened intently to the harrowing account of the most recent events. To say that the story was awful would have been a grand understatement. Fig trembled unhappily at the thought of such destruction – it was like nothing her innocent mind could have fathomed.
The cold brush of winter seemed suddenly to penetrate the cloak of thick roots draped all about her, and Fig felt the other mare’s sadness as though she too had watched the world decay. She dared not ask the cause, the reason... She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. Warily she glanced around them though there seemed to be no trace of the woes described upon the floating island – perhaps they were safe.
Resplendence shivered beneath the touch of the tree-girl, but she didn’t withdraw. Warm breath rattled delicately, tenderly, as she sighed. Fig was still a sapling, too young to bear fruit still like those of her mother and father. She knew though that their healing properties would offer clarity to her friend’s sickened mind though – they would dull the pain, and silence the nightmares (if only for a short time). Sadly and helplessly she mused, but there seemed to be no way right now for her to help. The kind-hearted Lignea knew not of the painful price she would pay for giving such a gift either. “Should I have been any older, the fruits of my family would ease your troubled mind,” she explained softly and caringly, lifting her face from pale flesh to view the soft, rippling foliage above.
As her thoughtful gaze lowered once more, Fig noticed the glint of the locket resting across the chest of the downhearted mare (nuzzling lips had noticed it before, but she had been quickly distracted). Quickly her shining eyes rediscovered it. “Your locket.... it is a treasure kept close to your heart,” she suggested with a warm smile - perhaps hoping that it would divert Resplendence’s concentration to something more constructive. “Do you mind if I ask about the secret it holds?”
Though tired from the journey both outside of Helovia, and through, the warm sunlight was absorbed by the ravenous leaves and her energy level remained fairly stable – only when the moon’s cold face assumed the sun’s throne would Fig know the truth of her fatigue and be forced to rest. Soft cherry blossom petals torn by the persistent wind from their trees, fluttered playfully, hopelessly, through the air around them while the young Lignea listened intently to the harrowing account of the most recent events. To say that the story was awful would have been a grand understatement. Fig trembled unhappily at the thought of such destruction – it was like nothing her innocent mind could have fathomed.
The cold brush of winter seemed suddenly to penetrate the cloak of thick roots draped all about her, and Fig felt the other mare’s sadness as though she too had watched the world decay. She dared not ask the cause, the reason... She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. Warily she glanced around them though there seemed to be no trace of the woes described upon the floating island – perhaps they were safe.
Resplendence shivered beneath the touch of the tree-girl, but she didn’t withdraw. Warm breath rattled delicately, tenderly, as she sighed. Fig was still a sapling, too young to bear fruit still like those of her mother and father. She knew though that their healing properties would offer clarity to her friend’s sickened mind though – they would dull the pain, and silence the nightmares (if only for a short time). Sadly and helplessly she mused, but there seemed to be no way right now for her to help. The kind-hearted Lignea knew not of the painful price she would pay for giving such a gift either. “Should I have been any older, the fruits of my family would ease your troubled mind,” she explained softly and caringly, lifting her face from pale flesh to view the soft, rippling foliage above.
As her thoughtful gaze lowered once more, Fig noticed the glint of the locket resting across the chest of the downhearted mare (nuzzling lips had noticed it before, but she had been quickly distracted). Quickly her shining eyes rediscovered it. “Your locket.... it is a treasure kept close to your heart,” she suggested with a warm smile - perhaps hoping that it would divert Resplendence’s concentration to something more constructive. “Do you mind if I ask about the secret it holds?”
