Fig

Thoughtful eyes regarded the black and white mare as she slipped from the cover of the lush forest foliage and ventured out into the subtle warmth of the mid-winter sunlight. It was a curious thing Fig thought suddenly, that one so tall and unlikely should keep the company of an avian so slight; yet again, it all seemed entirely probable because they shared both the gift of feather and flight. There had been stranger combinations in the old-world forests of Prim’sylva – toads bedding down the winding tunnels of tarantulas and ants that grazed on the waste of juicy green aphids...

The owl had ceased circling, and come to roost most peculiarly between stiff ears and silken onyx locks, and the young Lignea couldn’t help but watch with ever expanding interest. It seemed that his concern had been lost still more suddenly than his arrival above the grassy plateau- his well-natured companion spoke again however, and tender green eyes fell just short of her gaze. The winged one wore above her brow an intricately woven chain whose glistening surface barely sought notice; if not for the perfectly fashioned heart dangling by glass beneath, Fig may have missed it altogether.

The other spoke again in reference to the owl, explaining his tendency to seek out company on her behalf and the tree-girl chuckled softly. Perhaps though, it was not such a grim endeavour that should have brought them together; she thought kindly of both after all. Thick, bristly lips parted to speak but her focus drew away suddenly to another nearby – a similarly painted lady, russet, with a voice ringing cheer as she too came to bask where faint brackish sea mist tainted the cool morning air. Her company exchanged fond greeting and Fig smiled along attentively until each offered forth their name in turn.

“...and I am called Fig,” she offered at last through a fluttery sigh of contentment. “I am still quite new to World’s Edge, maybe you both could tell me more about our home? The tall shaggy creature knew only what Murdock and Thor had deemed necessary to share the day she had returned- that Protectors guarded the forest surrounding; that Kahlua’s glass wall lay shattered beneath the snow. She knew that there were crafters, nurses and philosophers (the latter rank Fig had chosen to follow), but it was culture which intrigued her most- the spirit of their kin which was both heartening and exciting to see.