The amount of little tree blossoms was immense and there were still many bright petals to gather despite the steady fall of them from the branches. Deeper and deeper Jancis traveled into the Shroud, past where the Wailers would go to the colder northern reaches of the Black Shroud.
Where what little light peeked through and reflected into the ground was the elusive and lovely lily of the valley, the little bell-shaped white flowers dangling in strings.
She had told Leanne about her plans to go gather the flower previously, thanking the fancy hat lady for offering to pick up any her adventuring feet would come close to. As if by habit, Jancis had reminded the miqo'te that the plant itself was poisonous.
Cutting off the little blossoms she came across, the conjurer was not concerned if the the sappy toxin. It was one of the first she had been subject to over and over in her training. She recalled the nights sitting in great pain, her body trying to expel the toxin ingested and the slowed heartbeat.Â
What had Master Ojune done? He certainly wasn't like this flower. He was strong and smart, not poisonous or noxious, even though he had a subtle beauty to him. The vivid green of his eyes and highlights in his braids came to mind briefly with a fond smile. The man was quite the opposite; he was invigorating and wholesome. What knowledge he had was shared as if Thaliak was speaking through the man. He wanted to write down stories. Spirits. For two little girls to help them have hope as well as cope with the hardships life was bound to give, but didn't have to.
Why Jancis had chosen these flowers to add to it, to carefully press the entire stem to highlight it on the cover of the book Master Ojune had asked for and detail the title, was for the return of happiness they symbolized. As the nightingale would return from the darkness and death of night to the warmth of day, this flower covered the welcoming archways.
Had he been upset when he was injured? Though he bore his limp with no malice or pity now, and the reason why it had happened wasn't important, but she couldn't help but wonder. More she thought about Master Ojune, the more she wanted to know about his life. The dark and light parts of it. She could not imagine not having feel the disappointment of dreams he mentioned to her before, to travel the land to places unseen and map them. To find the secrets folded into the earth of Eorzea and scale the heights of the world. But to what depth was the pain? She could not see the vision of his face in tears. To Jancis' best guess as she finished gathering the last stems, Master Ojune must have sat recovering in his bed and came to peace with the future. Even more so, gathering allies and kin would still be able to in varying degrees.
Picking up her supplies, she trudged out of the deep forest, the wilds loud in the morning dawn as hunts began. She had one more place to go to before returning to the Mist.
Where what little light peeked through and reflected into the ground was the elusive and lovely lily of the valley, the little bell-shaped white flowers dangling in strings.
She had told Leanne about her plans to go gather the flower previously, thanking the fancy hat lady for offering to pick up any her adventuring feet would come close to. As if by habit, Jancis had reminded the miqo'te that the plant itself was poisonous.
Cutting off the little blossoms she came across, the conjurer was not concerned if the the sappy toxin. It was one of the first she had been subject to over and over in her training. She recalled the nights sitting in great pain, her body trying to expel the toxin ingested and the slowed heartbeat.Â
What had Master Ojune done? He certainly wasn't like this flower. He was strong and smart, not poisonous or noxious, even though he had a subtle beauty to him. The vivid green of his eyes and highlights in his braids came to mind briefly with a fond smile. The man was quite the opposite; he was invigorating and wholesome. What knowledge he had was shared as if Thaliak was speaking through the man. He wanted to write down stories. Spirits. For two little girls to help them have hope as well as cope with the hardships life was bound to give, but didn't have to.
Why Jancis had chosen these flowers to add to it, to carefully press the entire stem to highlight it on the cover of the book Master Ojune had asked for and detail the title, was for the return of happiness they symbolized. As the nightingale would return from the darkness and death of night to the warmth of day, this flower covered the welcoming archways.
Had he been upset when he was injured? Though he bore his limp with no malice or pity now, and the reason why it had happened wasn't important, but she couldn't help but wonder. More she thought about Master Ojune, the more she wanted to know about his life. The dark and light parts of it. She could not imagine not having feel the disappointment of dreams he mentioned to her before, to travel the land to places unseen and map them. To find the secrets folded into the earth of Eorzea and scale the heights of the world. But to what depth was the pain? She could not see the vision of his face in tears. To Jancis' best guess as she finished gathering the last stems, Master Ojune must have sat recovering in his bed and came to peace with the future. Even more so, gathering allies and kin would still be able to in varying degrees.
Picking up her supplies, she trudged out of the deep forest, the wilds loud in the morning dawn as hunts began. She had one more place to go to before returning to the Mist.
![[Image: hpThOka.png]](http://i.imgur.com/hpThOka.png)
