Fig

Indeed she was rattled, shaken and disturbed. The assault on her Body Plant had been unwarranted and in whole, an utterly terrifying experience. She was so grateful the Laedere had moved so swiftly to her defence – perhaps if she had not, or if Fig had been alone at the time, a limb might have been grazed of its bark, cracked or severed.

What had started out as a mild enough task had become nothing more than a night mare for the unusual tree-girl and her expression spared no one its distress. Gentle brown eyes roved mistrustfully through the wandering crowd, suspicious and wary, and though it had been established that the native animals of the land were their new target, it offered her little in the way of comfort.

“Thank you,” Fig answered her friend feebly, relieved that there would be no extravagant journey next to struggle through. Her own blazed face dipped accordingly, formalities well matched, and gratefully received it seemed between the proper pair. She followed Laedere a small distance to the course of a babbling stream and there were many gathered by it already. A heavy sigh burst from her strained chest – she knew many of the faces before her this time – creatures from the edge that she called home. For the moment she said nothing of her relief, but the body language she offered in place of wrought tension was mellow and calm.

As the pale Pegasus suggested they collect a few lives from the water, the uncomfortable Lignea (both physically and mentally), hummed grimly, “Alright...” The bucket filled quickly, and within its prison walls fell a number of unsuspecting fish. Fig could not bear to view them contained – it was unnatural, unnecessary – and shook her thick skull lightly when asked if there were any she wished to take. She imagined that any aquatic life would ride a flood well enough and it pained her to think of souls bound up with no space to fan their delicate fins.

It became increasingly obvious too, that Laedere shared her discomfort.

“The Gods of this land are peculiar...” she mentioned humbly and softly, keen not to offend those scrabbling around at their bid. She felt inclined not to say more – who was she to question faith and tradition? Who was she to invalidate the respect Helovians so obviously felt towards this lord in particular? Fig knew little of the four, and though she was curious, there had been many terrible events in months passed that soured her confidence.