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The voice of a stallion startled her – Fig had not been expecting company there where she had concealed herself far above the island village, amidst the splendid, cheerful cherry blossoms. The branches in her canopy clunked against the slender arms of her friends as they swayed and stretched ever upwards into the breeze, and the young Lignea turned her hefty frame slowly to meet the stranger who had arrived.
First and foremost, as her glistening green eyes fell across him, she was relived to note the fiery-red quality of his rippling coat – it was far from the suspicious black she’d seen streaked through blood, and a smile to compliment his own was offered. The stallion’s sunlit eyes were lovely, filled with earthy hue and she regarded them quietly, thoughtfully.
With some careful, considerate effort, Fig pulled herself free from the interlocked branches above, not even a single leaf was severed from its grip – such was the nature of her trouble, and the kindness in her heart.
Presently, though gradually, she moved (Lignea never moved with haste) to stand a little nearer by the chestnut. “Oh, you have heard also of the murd... of the death?” Even the concept of such a heinous crime caused her mind to flutter anxiously. Events like that which had taken place here, never, ever came to pass in simple, peaceful Prim’sylva. “What a tragedy...” She mused on, a little distracted, but holding him snug in her warm gaze’s embrace nonetheless. The picture he offered was far nicer than the flickering memory of bloating and torture which tried repeatedly to revisit her.
“I am Fig,” she introduced herself at last, her accent quiet without the fluent grace of the Helovian tongue. The unusual creature spoke slowly and softly, and the note of her young voice was deep like the rumble of storm-churned waves, and then she asked innocently, trustingly, “Would you stay with me awhile? Perhaps you are right.” After all, she knew so little about Helovia – and already he had confirmed her suspicion that true danger lurked around them.
@[Kirah]
First and foremost, as her glistening green eyes fell across him, she was relived to note the fiery-red quality of his rippling coat – it was far from the suspicious black she’d seen streaked through blood, and a smile to compliment his own was offered. The stallion’s sunlit eyes were lovely, filled with earthy hue and she regarded them quietly, thoughtfully.
With some careful, considerate effort, Fig pulled herself free from the interlocked branches above, not even a single leaf was severed from its grip – such was the nature of her trouble, and the kindness in her heart.
Presently, though gradually, she moved (Lignea never moved with haste) to stand a little nearer by the chestnut. “Oh, you have heard also of the murd... of the death?” Even the concept of such a heinous crime caused her mind to flutter anxiously. Events like that which had taken place here, never, ever came to pass in simple, peaceful Prim’sylva. “What a tragedy...” She mused on, a little distracted, but holding him snug in her warm gaze’s embrace nonetheless. The picture he offered was far nicer than the flickering memory of bloating and torture which tried repeatedly to revisit her.
“I am Fig,” she introduced herself at last, her accent quiet without the fluent grace of the Helovian tongue. The unusual creature spoke slowly and softly, and the note of her young voice was deep like the rumble of storm-churned waves, and then she asked innocently, trustingly, “Would you stay with me awhile? Perhaps you are right.” After all, she knew so little about Helovia – and already he had confirmed her suspicion that true danger lurked around them.
@[Kirah]
