Firefly Ravine borðaðu rassinn minn

Valmúa did not catch the narrowing of the young healer's pleasant eyes, trailing just beside and in back of her and thus unable to watch her expressions. Instead, she was thinking about whether or not Meadow might be konuefni for Stjornuati. Perhaps their shared knowledge and interest in botany might prove enough to light the spark that the eldsystir was hunting for. What luck would it be to find a woman to steal Stjornuati's heart already living among them. Kigipigak's mission could even prove pointless outside of scouting the surrounding territories and packs — her Kigibonbon would be thrilled at such an advent when he returned.
Yet Valmúa knew that matters of the heart were strange, fickle, and required time and care. She would make no such gains should she push Meadow in a direction that did not suit her, especially after only just meeting her properly.
And so, she merely planted a seed, hoping that with mild care it might grow to be a sapling. My brother is always willing to teach, she said, her voice drained of any remaining malice. She loved her brother, and it was quite true that he had always held an interest in things that grew. The sister recalled when they were young, he would often try to show her the ones that interested him most. She, for her part, had mostly ignored these bids at knowledge sharing. She made an assumption that he was willing to teach, but figured a pretty young thing asking him would be an easy sell.
I do not care about these things, much, so he do not talk to me about, she explained, a small smirk on her copper-toned face. It was true. She assisted, but their ventures for herb gathering were almost always silent apart from her attempts at distracting him.