Where the wild roses grow

Alaine Winters · 06-23-2010, 02:39 AM

[html]

table © Alli
ooc: no probs! good to hear from you again :3

Books books books! She could see the thoughts fueling Orin's voice, could note with graceful humor the uncountable questions that filled her accomplices mind. And as such Alaine was more than willing to keep silent as the girl began to explain her passion, for it was the vigor with which she spoke that intrigued the young healer and warmed her to the topic. Books indeed! When Orin discussed their origins, the collie-woman stirred, a slight flicker of anxiety crossing her features. Ah, so books were the work of humans. The two-legs had a rather shaky standing in her opinion, for their evil and destruction was so great as the abolish them all, mercilessly unhindered, tragically total. How could she believe that such a chaotic, malicious race had produced something of good, something of wisdom and beauty as Orin preached? But then, she reflected, it was the humans that had constructed the gardens whose ruins now provided a home for the feverfew she now held in hand. Retaining that aspect, Alaine did not interrupt, and tried to see this vision of encrypted knowledge with the obvious glee her ivory and pink friend did.

Her floppy chocolate ears lifted at the lady's offer, a humble but pleased flush coloring the skin beneath her cheekfur.

" Oh, you are much too kind, but I wish not to trouble. So much effort it would take! I am undeserving." Regardless, Orin's words swam again through her mind, coloring wit ha hint of longing. How would it feel to be owner of such a thing as a book? And to read? Was there truly a vastness of knowledge out there, untapped and waiting to be discovered; cures for terrible ailments, potions for incurable illnesses? Her inverted jade eyes lowered slightly, slender ivory fingers kneading their ebony claws into the leather satchel held there.

Another question diverted her attention from the prospect of such genius. Eyes flicked up to Orin once more, and a smile curved prettily about her small doggish maw. " I would like to think so, yes. For what would life be without a 'soul', as you wolves call it? Why would the little flower grow if it gets no pleasure from growth?" The young healer laughed softly, her eyes alight with a moment of memory, " That sounds much nicer in my language, I think. And as for the powders, it depends on the plant. Sometimes, yes, they do not work as well as fresh petals would. But in other cases, age makes the tonics within them stronger, more potent - Most often this is the case with poisonous herbs, or hallucinogens, I have found."

As she had been speaking, a strange thought had been forming in her mind. Orin's words rang clear in Alaine's ideas: humans didn’t have ancestral memory. I don’t even think they had instincts. So if they weren’t around in the flesh to teach the next generation how to survive, they would have died out. . . A troubled expression crossed her pixie face, and the young woman swallowed nervously, casting her friend a shy glance.

" Do you think, lady Orin... Do you think that maybe, maybe you might write a book for me, yes?" She babbled on quickly, hoping to get the idea out before it might be rejected, " I mean, you are just so better at these words than I. And, and, writing and reading you already know, yes? If you had the time, maybe, you might just spend some time with me, and I could... I could show you medicines, and healing..." She trailed off sheepishly, scuffing the soft forest undergrowth beneath one footpaw.

" I just don't want what I know to be lost, is all. It took me a hard time to learn it."

Login




Remember me Lost Password?