Sequoia Coast was there ever a trap to match the trap of love?

edit: turning this into a little botany thread!

Aure wasn't eager to acknowledge Illidan in the slightest, as seeing him brought back a surge of guilt at what she'd screamed at him. But most of what she said had been true to her; and then she remembered who else was in Illidan's clan, and with a thinning of her scarred lips, she dismissed him and continued on with her foraging. If those from the Sound cared not to listen to reason, and assault when they were entirely without it, then it was better for her to pretend they'd never encountered another in the first place.

But, her traitorous soul made her gripe, "Hello, boy."

The skayona held vigilant over such-and-so properties she'd already gathered, and watched him with a drawn, inscrutible look; never hateful, despite it. Hate, war -- these things weren't what she'd been bred for, born for. The amor for such couldn't reside within her, no matter how much her mind may wrestle with it. How could willing-to-dole-out bloodlust make itself permenantly evident? It couldn't, not when, within the pinked curve of her womb, grew the truth of her love for her cheka, her corsairs of the cliffs?

Just on the crest of her fourth week, the days following her bearing-news had sobered the she-wolf, in heart, in body; and most certainly in her soul. She'd began to carry herself with a familiar, personal air -- a quieted, tenderful, unassuming one. So, as much as she yearned to feel some sort of hatred, some sort of fury towards Illidan and that reckless Raleska... she couldn't. There was not place in her for such to reside.