10-04-2010, 01:45 PM
[html]
The green house had come together splendidly. At the east end of Dahlia de Mai it was secluded and only Gideon often came to the garden. Others came and went, but their own homes were clustered in Wolfville and St. Pepins and so Nayru felt very much separated when she retired at the end of the day. Rather than feel any loneliness she relished in this seclusion, and took it upon herself to patrol the eastern borders once in the morning and once at night, scouting for scents of strangers and keeping the homeland secure. Or at least that is what she told Conor and Bris was one of her reasons for wishing to live so far off. Yet it was so much more. In the garden at night, when the others were wherever they were, she had time and space to think, without the overbearing energy of Dahlia and its members pressing in on her. Still she felt their electricity buzz about their beings, and to her the energy they emitted was so palpable she sometimes wondered why she couldn’t see it. And still her own being sucked it in, which could be wearisome, but in the garden, and especially the greenhouse, she was alone. Just her energy. And it was glorious. Nightly she read from the encyclopedia of plants and by day she had begun to gather specimens she found interesting, lining her green house with the plants and praying that they could last the winter in her glass house. Some she lost early, but some took root and thrived and every morning more plants were sprouting and growing and aside from the small dog house she had built her home was filled with flora. If Saluce wished to train that day, and he did many days, she ignored the plants, for they were merely a hobby, and a secret one at that. No one knew of her book or her plants, and she saw no reason to devote herself to them. Becoming a warrior was her main reason of being, the only feasible way she saw to serve Dahlia. That and patrolling the eastern border. Hopefully for now that was enough, but some day she could do more. Yet as it was her days were filled and less and less she saw the friendly faces of Gideon or Bris, and Conor she saw only to keep him informed of her doings. It was lucky that day that Saluce had not called for her and the plants were healthy and her run through the borders proved that everything was as it should. For the first time in weeks the black splotched fairy found herself with nothing to do, and so she gravitated towards Wolfville, her steps light and silent and her gait slow. Every movement Nayru performed seem graceful and with purpose, and it was in this fashion, slow and solemn, she came upon the strange male and the caged bat. His back was to her and her steps had been so light she doubted he had heard her come up from behind, and so for a long moment she simply stood, watching him, crimson eyes alert and glittering. The tree house that had stood vacant for as long as she knew towered above them, and beneath was a new construction, presumably of this man’s doing. He bent over his work, and hummed to himself. The tune was not unpleasant and Nayru smiled to herself, endeared by the private doings of the stranger and thinking how when by herself and sure no one watched she sometimes danced. And sang. Finally, she spoke, her melodic tones soft but clear, her voice at its usual volume of barely above a whisper. But surely he was not so wrapped up in his work he could not hear? ”Excuse me sir.” On two slender legs she stood, her hands clasped neatly before her, and ruby eyes wistful, waiting for him to turn about. |