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*glomp*
If everyone cared and nobody cried.
It was a beautiful day for collecting. Bris had awakened early, the rising sun just starting to warm her white pelt through the window of her now-lonely treehouse. The rays of morning light had glittered off the little slave earring that had once belonged to Kol; it now lay atop a worn-out jewelry box, the studded dreamcatcher that had made up the lower portion of the earring set now buried with Kol in Flander's Field. Bris had kept the top half of the broken earring, the cuff inscribed with a human glyph that resembled some sort of great bird with lightning around it, intent on finding a suitable bottom half to take the place of the dreamcatcher for the young girl to wear in her sister's memory. As the Stormbringer lay on her large mattress on the floor of her treehouse, she made the decision that today would be a good day to do a little shopping.
It didn't take the girl long to rustle herself from bed. Shortly after, Bris was on the ground, rolling up the rope ladder that led to her home, the top half of Kol's earring wrapped in some cloth and tucked safely into the brown leather satchel that crossed her chest. She was careful to lay the pouch against her left side, her right side still sore where the long gash from Cotl's sword was still healing. Her hands were healing a bit more quickly, but Bris was a bit more careful with them and they had been more shallow than the cut that graced her ribs. Even today they were still wrapped in white cloth to keep the wounds clean and let the salve do its job. When she'd finally thought about her encounter logically, Bris realized how lucky she was that the weapon hadn't severed the tendons in her palms, or worse.
The Stormbringer kept her pace deliberately slow. She had no time limit, no schedule to keep, and so she took the time to enjoy the beauty of the day. It was rare she found herself in a decent mood these days, and the yearling had to admit that it felt good. For a little while, the sadness of losing Kol was pushed to the back of her mind, replaced for the time being by the singing of birds, the rustle of leaves in the sunlight, and the strange sound of ripping plants. Bris paused as the latter came to her ears, her left one twitching to find the source. She'd passed the little greenhouse countless times in her wanderings through the area, but this was the first time she'd ever heard anything but silence from the worn out building. Raising a brow in curiosity, the snowy girl approached. She was surprised when she moved through the doorway and her mismatched eyes found the source of the sound: Conor was diligently ripping plants from the herb beds. Bris' knowledge of plants was only enough to recognize those that could pose a threat, several of which were littered in boxes and pots around the room. Not wanting to startle the young leader, Bris made sure to shuffle her feet a bit louder than usual as she approached him. "Conor? What are you doing?"
If everyone loved and nobody lied.
Table by Gina!
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