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11-29-2014, 04:11 PM
“Oh!”
Fig gasped, soft emerald eyes agape. She had nary expected to find such a wonderland – especially while the grip of this harsh winter lingered. It had taken her the good part of a week to venture so far from her home, a journey that had been gruelling because naught but snow cloaked forest seemed to fill the space between; she was weary and the skin beneath thick mats of fur and a shroud of flowing roots trembled as she drew to a halt at last.
The young Lignea drew a long deep breath. To her delight, and although still frosty, the air held a sweet taste that she likened to the soft mosses which dappled the bleached old timber strewn across the floor of the ancient rainforests of Prim’sylva. It roused a smile to warm her drained expression and for a moment she felt as though her Arborun family might even linger nearby. It was not the case though, and the sudden ascending flutter of a large bird across the pond interrupted the fantasy.
Naked trees, twisting towards the clear cold sky grew contentedly near to the water’s edge – the soft, skinny arms of willows swayed in the gentle breeze and stiff, prickly firs held their posts rigidly, fearlessly (their presence reassured the wanderer enormously). Sunlight spilled through the kindling canopy relatively unhindered, and Fig stepped along a trail woven by the tread of many visitors – where the trees grew like a tall avenue above. They reached high enough that only the flimsiest, uppermost twigs of her Body Plant grazed or tangled as she passed below.
She found space enough to slip down to the water’s edge, but to her disappointment (and to the misfortune of her growling stomach and flagging energy) the heavy creature found a thick sheet of ice across its surface. Even the delicate test of her enormous hoof upon it seemed not to crack the shell. “Bother...” She sighed grimly, lifting again her humble green gaze. It fell then upon strange pallid stone across the way; a structure whose glass and wrought iron roof seemed to hold a myriad of colour. It was a curious sight, and as she stared with her face on a gentle slant, there was a flicker of shadowy movement beneath.
Fig was some distance away, and thought as she surveyed the stretch of still, frozen water between she and the rotunda, that it would be a rather difficult (and long) task finding a route around. Perhaps the stranger would even be gone already by the time her cumbersome frame arrived to meet them. She decided instead to wait where she was and called, softly at first, “Hello! Is somebody there?” ...instead.
Fig gasped, soft emerald eyes agape. She had nary expected to find such a wonderland – especially while the grip of this harsh winter lingered. It had taken her the good part of a week to venture so far from her home, a journey that had been gruelling because naught but snow cloaked forest seemed to fill the space between; she was weary and the skin beneath thick mats of fur and a shroud of flowing roots trembled as she drew to a halt at last.
The young Lignea drew a long deep breath. To her delight, and although still frosty, the air held a sweet taste that she likened to the soft mosses which dappled the bleached old timber strewn across the floor of the ancient rainforests of Prim’sylva. It roused a smile to warm her drained expression and for a moment she felt as though her Arborun family might even linger nearby. It was not the case though, and the sudden ascending flutter of a large bird across the pond interrupted the fantasy.
Naked trees, twisting towards the clear cold sky grew contentedly near to the water’s edge – the soft, skinny arms of willows swayed in the gentle breeze and stiff, prickly firs held their posts rigidly, fearlessly (their presence reassured the wanderer enormously). Sunlight spilled through the kindling canopy relatively unhindered, and Fig stepped along a trail woven by the tread of many visitors – where the trees grew like a tall avenue above. They reached high enough that only the flimsiest, uppermost twigs of her Body Plant grazed or tangled as she passed below.
She found space enough to slip down to the water’s edge, but to her disappointment (and to the misfortune of her growling stomach and flagging energy) the heavy creature found a thick sheet of ice across its surface. Even the delicate test of her enormous hoof upon it seemed not to crack the shell. “Bother...” She sighed grimly, lifting again her humble green gaze. It fell then upon strange pallid stone across the way; a structure whose glass and wrought iron roof seemed to hold a myriad of colour. It was a curious sight, and as she stared with her face on a gentle slant, there was a flicker of shadowy movement beneath.
Fig was some distance away, and thought as she surveyed the stretch of still, frozen water between she and the rotunda, that it would be a rather difficult (and long) task finding a route around. Perhaps the stranger would even be gone already by the time her cumbersome frame arrived to meet them. She decided instead to wait where she was and called, softly at first, “Hello! Is somebody there?” ...instead.
