It took all of her will, but soon enough Fig drew her wide green eyes free from the horror of the stallion’s naked, frail bone. They fell instead across dark moving lips, and her focus began then rather quickly to return. Thor welcomed her graciously, a gesture that saw the shocked confusion dissolve entirely from her transparent expression, and the velvet wrinkled between the soft breath from her nostrils as she smiled brightly. Gently she flipped the thick veil of black, leafy forelock so that her gaze might find more politely the eyes of the newer stallion. “I thank you! That is good news” She replied, glancing briefly to Murdock who was waiting patiently by, and her sweet, slow tone bore the trill of soft laughter.

Fig was never one to assume the worst based on appearance, and certainly the elders had given warning of such terrors before she had even left Prim’sylva. They know not peace and wellness like the Lignea... she was told gravely, ...and it is up to you to teach them, guide them and above all else liberate them so that nature may not feel the curse of their cruel, uneducated existence any longer.

The spiritual tree-girl hummed thoughtfully, optimistically, and turned to follow Murdock whose encouraging perspective she valued enormously.

Enormous (though uncannily delicate) hooves picked a path through the sheet of white as close to the green-eyed Protector’s prints as they could manage. It occurred to Fig as he spoke casually and candidly about the duties on offer, that she knew next to nothing about the function of herds like this which had welcomed her so warmly; and she answered a little bashfully with ears turned courteously to listen for any note of Thor’s rich voice behind. “I shouldn’t think I would make a very clever protector...” Careful eyes considered the lithe looking frame ahead – narrow enough hips and legs that she imagined could turn with dexterity that she would never know. Murdock was handsome, even from the angle at which she watched him; unusual, alien.

There were three titles that she felt more inclined to than the rest (perhaps because she had a weak understanding at least, about what each might be responsible for) – nurses, craftsmen and philosophers. Immediately she felt drawn to concept of nurse; the Arboruns were natural menders after all as the plants upon them bore fruits that could heal the mind and the body. That would have been the natural choice, though she clamped tightly her brash tongue between pearly white teeth quickly to delve deeper than that initial inclination.

Murdock turned midstride to smile, and Fig offered the same again (with growing fondness), to Thor. The canopy above began to thin (or the trees grew at last, to allow each other more space) and Fig was grateful that her own branches did not tangle so snugly with the forest like they had before. It certainly made the final leg of her journey more comfortable.

With little regard for time and patience, the young Lignea stewed on in silent thought.

Kahlua had been a crafter, Fig knew – she had built the brilliant glass wall whose glinting fragments peeked here and there from beneath their snowy blanket. The idea of such an ability both fascinated and terrified her however and she set to rest the tickling desire to be able to wield that power. At least for the time being... “Philosophy interests me greatly,” she crooned at last, respecting that such a position might be her best chance to learn of the lore of Helovia and World’s Edge. She could not forsake the wish of her elders. Perhaps once a better understanding of this culture had been obtained, she might then be able to feed the beliefs of the Lignea into minds as hungry as her own.

“Yes. There is much I seek to learn about your... our, culture...” It was no secret that she was not like them – that she had come from shores many moons away - and Fig giggled girlishly, humbly as her swinging, modest stride continued without hesitation.