Moonspear i have a hunger and i can’t seem to get full
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Ooc — Rosie
Astronomer
Master Ecologist
Master Midwife
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#7
A hollow titter left her lip and the fae decided, then, that she would have to meet this Pyx. Though there was some roughness when her children were concerned, Olive had since come to realize that therein lie many similarities between the wolves of the Moonspear and the wolves of the family Svartell. Naturalists abounded [astrologists, even!] and there were wolves to spar with Dakarai — and though Olive was loath to see him to do, she recognized that this was a part of her lothario that needed to be nurtured and was thankful that there were others to do so. She could not provide him a partner, nor could she destroy these desires utterly [using only her ardor, as she once had], so Moonspear’s militant nature was one she would have to deal with. 

The security of their harborage was worth it. Her family was worth it.

Olive gestured towards the flowers tenderly gripped in Korei’s jaws. They were pretty, white — and if there was medicinal use for them, the druid did not know it. She was not a healer but a creator; of babies, of life, of love, of plants. That’s why she had Carina; the little sheepdog nursemaid who, for all intents and purposes, was likely slain for her own lowly life.  The thought was almost too much to bear — so the pale woman quickly segued her thoughts. ”Does she need them for medicines?” Olive inquired genuinely. Roots were mainly used for water uptake; but nutrients were stored in droves in the leaves and flowers. The roots, with their low concentration of, would likely prove not useful. ”Then, likely she does not need them.” With a nod, Olive decided her arbitration.

With a nibble at her pale, earthen-stained lip, Olive canted her head. ”…but roots are useful for planting and reaping, gardening.” Her tail swung low, buoyantly brushing against the ground. ”Would you like to see?” The druid had never shown anyone before; not even Dakarai. Olive notched up an eyebrow at the ivory girl, turning a shoulder towards the small thicket of trees at her flank.
and all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams
are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams
in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams

Messages In This Thread
RE: i have a hunger and i can’t seem to get full - by Olive - May 22, 2017, 08:41 PM