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11-27-2014, 02:03 PM
As clumpy mats of thick black fur in turn began to dry, a white crust materialised where long, flowing roots draped not across her. Fig’s cumbersome frame was heavy and far from the sort whom might naturally be prone to visiting the waves – much like Morrigan – and though she meant to stand relatively still while the pretty braided mare spoke so affably, her enormous, plume shrouded hooves slipped constantly as the briny water crept nearer; in fact, it was virtually impossible to maintain balance even with the sprawling arms of her lovely canopy so evenly spread above.
Nevertheless (and despite her growing dislike for sand, sea and surf), she wore nothing but a kind smile for the sake of her newest acquaintance and though the revelation of her past home was brief in truth, it was more than sufficient according to the easy-going young tree-girl.
There was a moment’s pause, a chance to consider and collect thoughts. Morrigan was the second she had met now to mention Dragon’s Throat – a place that she had fancifully imagine might reflect the fierceness of its name. Fig was intrigued and her expression could not evade that feeling. Buce... Bu-cephalus (she pronounced the name only with billowing breath and the faintest bounce of her large skull), had not offered an invitation to visit though like Midas from Hidden Falls and so there was, as a result, grand mystery surrounding its existence. Large green eyes sparkled with interest.
“The elders of Prim’sylva were bestowed word from Nepenthes of the Plants and Corocottas of the Animals, that I should seek...” For a second Fig hesitated and her body plants swayed as she fought again to right her sinking, skewed balance in the soft, yielding sand. “...I have been sent here to learn about Helovian customs and restore the symmetry of your natural world; to teach the Lignea’s beliefs so that peace and harmony might be found.” That part was no secret and she gave it freely with a broadening smile. For the time being, especially while criminals lurked, Fig thought it best to keep the more important aspect of her quest well hidden.
Inadvertently, the young tree-girl drew the conversation nearer to the other’s roused curiosity. Her own interests however, lingered around Morrigan’s most recent home.
Nevertheless (and despite her growing dislike for sand, sea and surf), she wore nothing but a kind smile for the sake of her newest acquaintance and though the revelation of her past home was brief in truth, it was more than sufficient according to the easy-going young tree-girl.
There was a moment’s pause, a chance to consider and collect thoughts. Morrigan was the second she had met now to mention Dragon’s Throat – a place that she had fancifully imagine might reflect the fierceness of its name. Fig was intrigued and her expression could not evade that feeling. Buce... Bu-cephalus (she pronounced the name only with billowing breath and the faintest bounce of her large skull), had not offered an invitation to visit though like Midas from Hidden Falls and so there was, as a result, grand mystery surrounding its existence. Large green eyes sparkled with interest.
“The elders of Prim’sylva were bestowed word from Nepenthes of the Plants and Corocottas of the Animals, that I should seek...” For a second Fig hesitated and her body plants swayed as she fought again to right her sinking, skewed balance in the soft, yielding sand. “...I have been sent here to learn about Helovian customs and restore the symmetry of your natural world; to teach the Lignea’s beliefs so that peace and harmony might be found.” That part was no secret and she gave it freely with a broadening smile. For the time being, especially while criminals lurked, Fig thought it best to keep the more important aspect of her quest well hidden.
Inadvertently, the young tree-girl drew the conversation nearer to the other’s roused curiosity. Her own interests however, lingered around Morrigan’s most recent home.
