Sawtooth Spire Snowdrift and Sadness

Gracious's short description was sufficient for Ainhoa's understanding. The acquaintance of a true woman, one who knew herself and her purpose, it could be a transformative experience. She smiled and turned away from the snow-pelted sylph, content to listen to the whispers of snowfall. 

Another question came. She shifted uncomfortably and considered her answer. Everywhere, came the reply, but I was born on a mountain. Ainhoa did not want to discuss her background any further, and so hoped that Gracious would understand.

Nothing, she laughed, turning her gaze upward, It's too much to memorize. Remembering the placement of seeds, or the best patches to forage, these things came easy. She was a natural horticulturist, but not an astronomer. I know plants. Flowers, mostly. Once the ground became soft, Ainhoa planned to start her own garden.