The Sunspire Easy come, Easy go

Olive’s ears stood attentively at the top of her head, not like the silver peaks of a medieval crown [with her muddled olive-colored orbs parading as the crown’s jewels]. She really could empathize with Dakarai’s recollections [fondness?] of the past. Olive; when she divinely aligned with the earth and the natural world sung their songs & spun their tales in her mind [even herself, the mind of a small, God-fearing wolf], the subject was almost always scenes of the past. Consequentially, Olive found herself contemplating and musing often in scenes times past. Scenes of herself, in times past. It was a blessing as well as a curse, she knew.

“I know what that can be like," Olive responded, her voice spun into a fine silk. Her tone dropped a note and she looked up to Dakarai from her relaxed place upon the cool, mid-autumn day grass. He not only entertained her musings but returned them; and thus, Olive decided the male piqued her interest. She pushed herself up onto all fours - matching his own stance.

The spectre’s voice was deep as he spoke of his beliefs and asking her a question concerning life and death. Does this mean I’m interesting? She chuckled to herself. A little odd, maybe. She parted her lips to respond.

“I do believe there’s more. More than anything, I believe that.”  Cocking her head at Dakarai again, Olive wondered if the male were simply entertaining her..or was truly interested in spiritual matters [or if he was just as crazy as she]? Her tiny, creme paw stepped forward. The fae lightly dragged her other paw forward to meet the first; an action that completed a step in the male’s direction. “Anthousai… Is that what you said? What does that mean?” Olive paused for a moment. “What language?