Sky Mesa by the colors they forgot to read

for @Soto!!!

At first, Aderyn had mulled over whether or not she should even bother with the given task. Gardening in a creepy desert didn't seem like the most lucrative of occupations. Thankfully, the saplings weren't too evasive, and she begrudgingly begins the agriculture.

The yearling selects the location easily enough. The mesa has surprisingly clean water, and Aderyn is no poor climber. It's enough of a hike, however, enough to assure her no strangers will mess with her work.

Soto is strange, the coywolf decides. She almost pities him, in a way. The one-eyed man who's seemingly early midlife crisis forces him to collect bland leaves. Well, it ultimately isn't her business.

The cultivation of plants isn't a foreign idea for Aderyn, though the local flora is majorly bizarre to her. The garden is split into two small regions; one housing the specified sprouts, arranged in a careful manner. The other area grows with other, more vibrant verdure. An ever-growing crowd of seasonal flowers, and available berries. 

As the garden blooms, so does a new pastime.

things are quiet enough in luneshale soto is comfortable roaming. between fiamma and towhee, nothing gets by without their notice.

he climbs out of the shale and into the lowlands. the bite of winter here is lessened, and it is this thread of warmth soto pursues up the mesa.

there a surprising scent greets him -- he keeps his head low as he stalks, eyes searching for the familiar.

He is just in time, as the latest batch of green shoots has planted. Aderyn splashes water from the crystalline pool onto the nearest plants, yapping an overenthusiastic greeting. "Hey, over here! Hola! Hi!"

She bounds closer, careful not to trample the plants, searching his expression for any hint of approval. "Entonces tengo tus plantas aquí y las mías allá. Ten cuidado, por favor."

i am so sorry for the wait <3

it’s her excited yaps that broadcast her location; soto prowls towards her, ears tilting as she cycles between two languages. 

spearing between the glistening dirt was the first sign of cultivation; soto’s gaze widens as he recognizes the product, their gentle green surface glittering with crystal water. 

cómo? he asks breathlessly, hunching down to peer at the tallest sprig in the bunch.