Plant your hope with good seeds

p. Posey

POSTED: Sun Jul 07, 2019 7:24 pm

OOC ::
The plants in the garden could use a little love. Water them, pull weeds, or do other garden maintenance.

Backdated to July 3rd.
Words→ 256

Watered by spring rain and warmed by summer heat, Mistfell Vale’s gardens were flourishing. Early summer berries poked out between bright, green leaves and small, colorful flowers, while errant weeds threatened to choke unsuspecting plantlife. Those weeds, as small and inconspicuous as they seemed, had begun to smother parts of the gardens.

Falcon had always enjoyed hard, muscle-building labor. She liked getting her hands dirty and helping people, and with the new Rum Bridge completed, she’d taken to weeding the pack’s overgrown gardens. It was lonely work, but it kept her mind off of Naya’s tongue-lashing—at least, for the most part.

The Elkenfrey whistled a quiet melody as she plunged her hands into a patch of heal-all, ripping out errant weeds to the jovial tune. Falcon had grown up calling it woundwort, and her mother often cooked it into soups when they had a good crop—if Snakeroot didn’t get to it first, of course.

She smiled weakly and continued weeding the purple-bloomed patch, wondering what her parents would think of her now. Would they mourn the loss of an unhappy son, or celebrate her existence as a happy daughter? Perhaps more importantly, for as few luperci as she’d told… What would the rest of Mistfell Vale think? Or even Casa, if Naya was kind enough to have her as a guest? For every Sedona, whose easygoing nature took Falcon’s confession in stride, there were countless luperci whose worldviews were more rigid and unyielding.

Note: Falcon uses he/him pronouns publicly (i.e. to most packmates, acquaintances, and strangers) and she/her pronouns privately (i.e. to specific, close friends).
Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Alexander
Pack Aide II Drakehund I They stole my dirty socks... :(

POSTED: Mon Jul 22, 2019 8:24 pm

Merry melodies whistled through the garden, and Posey absentmindedly picked up on the tune with her weak, off-key humming. She wandered in her rarely-taken Optime form, leaning on her gnarled walking stick. Well, it wasn't quite hers in the sense no one had gifted it to her, and she hadn't made it from anything, but it was a nice branch and not too heavy, long enough to act as a cane. She needed it more some days than others, but that was fine; she rarely attempted to pull off feats of athleticism anyway.

She followed the source of the whistling and the pretty scent of flowers, and pricked her ears when she spotted Falcon tugging weeds from the earth. Bushy tail wagging, she hobbled over quicker and leaned forward to sniff the little snakeroot flowers plucked from the unkempt garden.

"Oh that's a pretty 'un! Doin' some pluckin', arent'cha?" She pulled one bundle of diminuitive white flowers from the plant and dusted it in Falcon's hair, grinning wide and benevolent. "Reckon I like white on ya!"

Of course, no one had ever explained the concept of weeds to Posey, and as far as she was concerned, dandelions and roses belonged side by side.

[210]


Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Raze
Luperci With Great Distinction

POSTED: Sat Aug 10, 2019 7:12 pm

OOC :: Words→ 233

Falcon’s ears twitched backward at the sound of footsteps, noting the familiar, “three-legged” gait. Off in her own little world, she couldn’t help but think of Naya—kind Naya, smart Naya, brave Naya—sailing across the loch to come visit her. They would patch things up, just like old times, and… And they’d… Falcon sighed and ripped another handful of weeds from the dirt; Cotton would sooner slink into the garden, tail tucked and ears folded back, begging for forgiveness. Naya didn’t have the time or energy to bother with Falcon right now.

She wasn’t the pregnant one, after all.

”Hi, Posey,” the Elkenfrey said, glancing over her shoulder at the white-furred elder, ”I’m weeding, actually.” She turned back to her work and smiled; the heal-all patch was looking better and less choked already. Before Falcon could ask what Posey was doing in the gardens, she was dusted with a handful of tiny, white petals. ”You reckon, huh?” She snorted and shook herself off.

Posey always knew how to make her feel better.

Falcon scanned the gardens and plucked a hardy-looking thistle sprig from the earth. A large, leafy bush was growing over the weed, but it didn’t appear to be hampering its growth. ”What do you think about purple?” she asked, smirking as she tucked the sprig behind Posey’s ear.
Note: Falcon uses he/him pronouns publicly (i.e. to most packmates, acquaintances, and strangers) and she/her pronouns privately (i.e. to specific, close friends).
Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Alexander
Pack Aide II Drakehund I They stole my dirty socks... :(

POSTED: Sun Sep 01, 2019 12:10 pm

The elder cocked her head and leaned on her "cane," her eyes peering down at the plucked bunches of plant. Weeding? she prompted as her honey-brown gaze returned to Falcon's smiling face. She was unashamed of her ignorance; growing up more feral than most in the Vale, she hadn't been exposed to "civilized" concepts, and felt proud when she recognized them. Why, she would have impressed Ira with everything that she knew now!

All the young folk here were so sweet to teach her.

She thought Falcon was extremely sweet, too, and beamed at the lad as he shook the delicate little petals from his hair, like oversized snowflakes. He pulled another sprig from the garden, then reached forward to tuck the purple thistle behind Posey's ear, somewhere in the wild, unstyled mane.

She hooted in delight.

I love purple! Had a lot o' pinky-purples up north, real bright. Got yer fireweed, yer saxifrage, yer rosebay... Her eyes grew soft, fond, sad. Y'know, I have a Rosebay. Named her 'cos her nose was pink. Calia 'n' Zuri remind me o' her, 'cept she don't have the same eyes 'r troubles. Just the nose. She reached out to tap the dark tip of Falcon's, some melancholy behind the gesture.

I reckon that's why I love flowers, all the ones up north. Ya get so used ta snow all the time, then the spring comes, and –

Her hands fluttered upward, fingers spread wide, like a burst.

The gnarled branch toppled over to the ground.

Posey said, Fiddlesticks!

[WC: 264]


Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Raze
Luperci With Great Distinction

POSTED: Sun Sep 29, 2019 3:49 pm

OOC :: Words→ 335

Posey’s confusion was charming, and Falcon cocked a pale eyebrow at her. She opened her mouth to answer, and ask a question of her own, but was dusted with flower petals instead. She supposed it would have to wait, still beaming at the old woman’s antics.

The Elkenfrey laughed at Posey’s enthusiasm, ears twitching as she followed her meandering thoughts. It was happy, then fond and sad, as she tapped Falcon’s dark nose. The gesture filled the younger woman with warmth and she nodded in quiet understanding. Posey had many children, but Falcon had only met one of them.

The pale elder mimed an explosion of spring flowers and released her walking stick in the process. Falcon’s hand darted toward it instinctively, but the gnarled wood brushed past her fingertips and hit the ground with a soft thump. ”Don’t worry, I’ve got it. I’m… used to it,” Falcon said, her smile fading as she picked up Posey’s walking stick. Cold guilt and painful nostalgia swelled in her chest. She was used to it, once upon a time. Now she wasn’t anymore.

”Sorry,” the Elkenfrey murmured, handing the walking stick back to Posey, ”We were talking about flowers, right?” And fiddlesticks, though she didn’t say it. It was a joke for another time. ”I uh… I know about fireweed, I think—my mother called it willowherb sometimes, too.” Most plants had more than one name, and Falcon didn’t understand most of them.

”And you… You asked about weeding,” Falcon said, not wanting to be silent with her thoughts, ”Weeding is when you… You kill plants that are hurting other plants, like dandelions and tough grasses. There isn’t enough space for the heal-all to grow, and we need it more than we need the weeds.” Explaining the concept grounded Falcon enough to close her mouth and listen, face growing hot with embarrassment.

She used to know when to keep her mouth shut, too.

Note: Falcon uses he/him pronouns publicly (i.e. to most packmates, acquaintances, and strangers) and she/her pronouns privately (i.e. to specific, close friends).
Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Alexander
Pack Aide II Drakehund I They stole my dirty socks... :(

POSTED: Thu Oct 10, 2019 5:41 am

Falcon was already reaching forward to catch the walking stick as it toppled, but despite her powers of observation, Posey didn't recognize the instinctual gesture or the following comment for what it was. Instead, she laughed a little as the coywolf gave it back to her. Thank ya kindly.

She bobbed her head in assent; oh, how she let her thoughts get away from her sometimes! Willowherb is pretty, too, she said of the name, and allowed Falcon to steer her gently back to the original topic.

The way that the other Elkenfrey explained it made sense. Killing a plant was not the same as killing an animal, and even animals had to die for the survival of others sometimes – like every time the wolves hunted.

I rather think dandelions 're pretty, too. But yer sayin' if they choke out the heal-all, there's less healin' for all, eh? Posey stamped her staff against the ground with a brief hoot of laughter at her own joke, then nodded. I reckon I understand. I'm not as clever as you, don't know what kinda plants work magic. My mother just tole me which ones y'ain't 'posed t' eat 'n' I taught my kids 'n' that's that! She could warn a puppy away from nibbling a patch of yarrow but knew nothinga bout its potential medical properties.

But that was fine. Posey lived a simple life, and the Mistwalkers took care of her when she needed it.

[WC: 251]


Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Raze
Luperci With Great Distinction

POSTED: Sun Nov 03, 2019 10:30 pm

OOC :: Words→ 431

Thankfully, Posey didn’t question Falcon’s pinched expression or rambling words. The old woman took most things in stride, for better or worse, and it let Falcon pretend nothing was wrong. She wasn’t in the mood for hard questions with painful answers; she just wanted to weed the garden and talk to her friend.

The Elkenfrey smiled at Posey as she pulled a pair of dandelions from the dirt, their yellow heads standing out among the purple heal-all. She couldn’t help but laugh at the old woman’s bad joke; it was the kind of joke Falcon would tell to cheer up a friend, and it lifted her spirits a bit. ”That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she said, dropping the weeds in the pile next to her. ”I’m not sure that makes me clever, though. My mother is better with medicinal plants than I am—I just know which ones taste good and how to grow them.”

Falcon spotted a dandelion with a big, bright yellow flower, dug out its roots, and offered the entire plant to Posey. ”I didn’t even know what heal-all was before Saga pointed it out to me. Our garden wasn’t that big, and we mostly grew vegetables and cooking herbs.” There was also an old, sickly pear tree behind the cabin; it had probably died by now, which meant Adino finally got the chance to chop it down. The old fisherman hadn’t visited often, but when he did, he’d always complained about their dying pear tree.

The Elkenfrey’s thoughts drifted back to Naya and her pups, as stubborn as the weeds she pulled from the earth. She sighed and began to dig a strange, fuzzy plant out from between the heal-all; as selfish as it was, she wished that Sedona had found her instead of Posey. The green-eyed cowgirl already knew Falcon’s story, and she almost always knew what to say. Posey… Well, Posey usually knew what to say, too. But she didn’t know Falcon’s story.

The black and white hybrid froze mid pull, holding the weed halfway out of the dirt. Why didn’t Posey know her story? The elderly woman had never given Falcon any indication that she’d judge her, and she’d poured her heart out to her a couple of moons ago. ”I… Posey, can I tell you something?” she asked, her heart thumping in her chest; if Sedona could take it in stride and try her best to understand, so could Posey.

Note: Falcon uses he/him pronouns publicly (i.e. to most packmates, acquaintances, and strangers) and she/her pronouns privately (i.e. to specific, close friends).
Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Alexander
Pack Aide II Drakehund I They stole my dirty socks... :(

POSTED: Mon Nov 25, 2019 9:25 pm

Well, I can't grow nothin'!" replied Posey good-naturedly. Or cook, ho boy. Y'ain't want me 'round a fire. She tended to scatter ash anywhere or singe the tip of her tail. Luckily, she hadn't needed to build many fires; oh, the arctic had been terribly cold, but there was no timber to be found anyway. All one could do was curl up in a den and tuck their nose in their tail.

She smiled and took the proferred dandelion, the dirt crumbling from the roots into her gnarled fingers. Y' oughtta show me how t' grow somethin' real pretty, she asked, but almost quietly, not wanting to intrude on Falcon's time – or, at least not anymore than she was doing now. Chatter didn't seem like intrusion to Posey, though. Growing up, she had never quite grasped the concept of private moments, and had no indication that Falcon might want to be alone or with someone other than Posey. I reckon I'd like t' grow flowers so I have all the right colors, the amateur florist added. She couldn't craft things very well anymore, but piecing together bouquets with different color palettes pleased her greatly.

She held the golden dandelion under her chin thoughtfully, then rubbed a smudge there, the white fur turned gold. Then she realized Falcon was talking and pricked her ears toward the dark coywolf. Mm? She leaned on the walking stick and grinned, gesturing invitingly with the yellow weed. O' course ya can!

[WC: 255]


Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Raze
Luperci With Great Distinction

POSTED: Wed Jan 08, 2020 9:45 pm

OOC :: Words→ 477

Falcon nodded, remembering why Posey had always made for such a good friend; she could get her mind off of the saddest, most awful things. ”I really ought to, yeah—we can learn together,” Falcon said, imagining the garden behind her house as some quaint, manicured thing instead of a wild patch of overgrown plants. ”We could plant weeds, too, as long as they flower well.” They’d be hard to kill and easy to replenish, like the ones that had taken over her garden again; every time she made progress on cleaning it up, something made her throw up her hands and give up.

It usually involved Naya, pregnant with pups that Falcon couldn’t meet, or sing to, or cherish. Children she couldn’t love, because she said she wasn’t ready to—and she really wasn’t, as much as it hurt her to admit it.

But the Elkenfrey couldn’t talk about it if Posey didn’t know about… Well, about her. She leaned back, bare knees resting on crushed grass, and sighed. How had she told Naya and Sedona? As significant as those moments had been, full of warm relief and tight hugs, she seemed to have lost the words that worked so well. Falcon supposed she’d just have to wing it; the story would be the same, no matter what words she used to tell it.

”I’m…” The word left her lips before she was ready, trailing off into silence. A pair of butterflies flew from bush to bush over their heads, carried on a gentle breeze. ”A few moons ago, I realized something really important that was bothering me for a long time. I… Realized that I’m not a man. I look like one, but I’m not one,” Falcon said, her ears folding back against her long, dark hair. ”I’m… I’m a woman, like you. In here.” Falcon placed a hand on her chest, over her pounding heart, and offered Posey a hopeful smile.

Between her ears too, but she thought her heart would get the point across better; Posey was sappy like that.

The Elkenfrey returned to her weeding like she hadn’t said a word, distracting herself with errant flower stalks and crawling vines. ”It’s a secret,” she added, scrubbing a pollen-dusted hand through her hair, ”and I’m only telling you because I trust you. I… I know there are a few Mistwalkers who wouldn’t like me very much if they found out.” The older, more serious ones. The ones who already eyed Falcon with an air of suspicion, for how she spoke, acted, or dressed.

She sighed and plucked a hidden snail from the patch of heal-all. The hybrid considered herself lucky; unlike snails, luperci didn’t die when they were forced out of their shell.

Note: Falcon uses he/him pronouns publicly (i.e. to most packmates, acquaintances, and strangers) and she/her pronouns privately (i.e. to specific, close friends).
Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Alexander
Pack Aide II Drakehund I They stole my dirty socks... :(

POSTED: Wed Jan 08, 2020 10:41 pm

337 words

Falcon, kneeling among the weeds, sighed and spoke – a false start, silence. Clueless but instinctively sensing the importance of the words to be spoken, Posey settled down in the warm grass too, using the wobbling walking stick to help lower herself. At eyeline with the coywolf, she pricked her ears forward, her wizened features softly earnest. Her countenance, encouraging but not impatient, had been well practiced throughout her seasons of motherhood, coaxing secrets and worries out of her children.

It did not take long for Falcon's voice to be found again. As the words poured out, Posey's expression shifted in miniscule twitches of lip and brow, frowning and furrowing before her honey-brown gaze fell upon Falcon's heart. No judgment shadowed her eyes, but confusion lingered in their haze – and another emotion unfamiliar to a woman generally unconcerned about her nescience. She felt ashamed that she did not understand this thing that was so important to her friend.

But when Falcon impressed upon her that this was a secret, she blinked in alarm and retorted at once. Now why wouldn't they like ya? The elder looked distressed by this, and reached out to grasp at the coywolf's forearm gently. Yer bright 'n' thoughtful 'n' a good singer an' this don't change nothin', she insisted, still uncertain what this was. She frowned again, feeling so old and foolish.

Memories surfaced as she raked her foggy brain, and that stern voice made her understand where the contention might come from.

God made you, and she thought about Ira, God made you a woman and you know a woman has duties, but she smiled past this, poked Falcon's chest, an' God made what's inside o' here too. It's hard, but I reckon I understand, 'least I'll darn well try ta. She pricked her ears worriedly, hoping that Falcon would not fault her for trying.

An' keep it secret, she added, because this seemed equally important to Falcon. Cross my heart.


Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Raze
Luperci With Great Distinction

Mistfell Vale