Stir did the wilds as the the breeze flowed through the trees and set all the leaves to shimmer and shake. Bough and branch swayed, at the edge of the ancient forest, where light still spilled through canopy and poured gold upon clearing and glade.
Still, in parts of that ancestral growth, there gouged the long scars of conflicts past. Ancient to many a mortal mind. But an unfurled root to others. Lan so scorched and turned that only shrub and weed and underbrush held root there. Ephemeral things that came and went with the seasons. Young things, that were still too weak to shelter more than rat and chirping bird.
It was in such a clearing that the wandering root did stay. A stretch of land far from the heart of the Falwood, their eyes aglow beneath the shade of their own growth, but dim beneath the bright glow of the sun.
A squierrel ran along one of their limbs. Chittered as it stopped with acorn betwixt teeth as its little claws scratched at bark.
Still. Gladfrond but watched the blades of grass and the heads of flowers sway and ripple as western winds swept over them. Clouds, cotton white, sailed high across the field of heaven's endless blue.
The twist and snap of roots, as they crunched and ground through the soft soil, was a near soundless hum beneath the great spirit. And their they stood, as the world moved and churned and grew, in this space where so much was lost, and so many small things had come again.
Arani
Still, in parts of that ancestral growth, there gouged the long scars of conflicts past. Ancient to many a mortal mind. But an unfurled root to others. Lan so scorched and turned that only shrub and weed and underbrush held root there. Ephemeral things that came and went with the seasons. Young things, that were still too weak to shelter more than rat and chirping bird.
It was in such a clearing that the wandering root did stay. A stretch of land far from the heart of the Falwood, their eyes aglow beneath the shade of their own growth, but dim beneath the bright glow of the sun.
A squierrel ran along one of their limbs. Chittered as it stopped with acorn betwixt teeth as its little claws scratched at bark.
Still. Gladfrond but watched the blades of grass and the heads of flowers sway and ripple as western winds swept over them. Clouds, cotton white, sailed high across the field of heaven's endless blue.
The twist and snap of roots, as they crunched and ground through the soft soil, was a near soundless hum beneath the great spirit. And their they stood, as the world moved and churned and grew, in this space where so much was lost, and so many small things had come again.
Arani