This world is easier. Someone's abandoned elsewhere, a forest world, trees draped with foreign flowers, enormous velvety things in saturated colors, their scent oddly delicate and, if you pay close attention, a language of its own. The petals are dripped-wax thick and so soft and will not tear, and they are almost a caress on your bare arms as you explore. Smaller blossoms settle into your hair as you walk, like children following a strange and fascinating new adult, and their scent is higher in pitch and frequency, is almost like laughter, almost like song.
You find yourself smiling. It has been some time since you smiled and meant it, but you do here. This world is rich and green and jewel-toned and warm. You wonder whose it was, and if she survived the transition to the stark grey reality when it came. You wonder how they could have. This must have kept its person sane, this place, almost a perfect cradle with its beds of moss and twining vines and blossoms and clear pools. How can one go from this to anything else?
You push the thoughts aside and kneel at a pool, dip your fingers in. The water clings to you, silverslick, as you lift your hand, and for the first time something smells slightly off, and you are so very tired.
When you wake in your own bed, a single flower is tangled in your sleep-tousled hair.
A massive floral explosion on the side of your head! Not for the shy, absolutely for the bold and playful. karnythia will make you a barrette like those pictured to your specifications. Feathers, fairies, and flowers of any color and size all available upon request.
Apparently this Blogathon is all about the singing.
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Team Venture shoutout to my Adam, yendi, the first shift of our pit crew! He's keeping the coffee and snacks going, and is about to make kale chips.