There was no pleasure from the idea of this land soaked; the aged timber destroyed and mountain faces smoothed by rough waves. The impending flood schooled me to keep my efforts toward decor minimal, simplistic. Which is fortunate...I hardly knew my daffodil's from dandelions; further evidence that a males eye usually bore no talent, or creative edge for such obvious details. Aye, had there been time and hindsight, I'd have sought Kiara for advice on herbs and various flora that would please Africa.

As it were, I spent the remainder of this evening/morning searching amid shadows for exotic looking plantlife. Different flowers, berries and vines -- large leaves of various color, shape and size. I knew nothing of their name, thus my selection was wide -- arched over an impressive array of hue and texture. Reds, golds and violets formed the large majority of my labor.

Hours later, the fruit of many trips into the forest lay before me. I selected with ample care, the brightest of each flower and bound those stems together with a golden thread. A beautiful array, which I sat with delicate sand fingers upon a palm leaf I'd plucked from a banana tree deep in the forest. Upon first light, (which wasn't far off) those little blossoms would yearn wider, opening their eyes, wondering upon where they'd been moved.

Other greenery, (mostly decorative weed, granted the title of herb by an unskilled mind) was either hung upon the ceiling closest to the far wall with thin vines lashing it into cracks and crevices, or placed along yon dimpled side.

At long last a weary sigh drew itself from my chest, the beginnings of a yawn swelled almost immediately after. I stiffened, stretching my jaw and glancing out the lip to see a foggy wood becoming increasingly brighter. Lids fell over themselves, silently my mind whispered, 'just a few moments of rest.' A few hours or so later, I awoke to find yon morning sun high above the pine. A discouraged sigh drifts between pursed lips. My intent had been to simply doze for a few moments; instead, slumber has burned a large section of the morning away. Limbs shuffle, following the cliffs, marching fluidly in the direction of our prisons.

Neve came to find me sometime in the night...she flew above, circling, listening...Her sister had trailed off to hunt, and still hasn't returned.


_____

Swelling hips and sloping spine is turned to me, her firey crown bent toward the clear spring that lay her feet. My lips moisted, (though to give thirst all the credit would be false) -- throat sparking a sudden fire, a reminder... Limbs broke their rigid stance and carried me forward beyond the itchy branches and bramble, "Good morning," a warm smile teases her way, I slipped my jaw against the womanly curve of Africa's thigh, brushing with the utmost gentleness. Gilden gems linger softly on her swollen side, then rise with a boyish grin shinning in the center, "Can ye spare a moment? There is something I would show ye."

@[Africa]