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[spring-sprite.livejournal.com]

Character(s): Sprite and OPEN!
Content: Spring has arrived in Paixao!
Setting: Near Vanaheim gate.
Time: Afternoon.
Warnings: Flowers! Trees! Greenery! Nothing atm.

Wrapping herself in a protective cloak of green, Sprite shrunk herself so that she could hide easier. There were so many sights and sounds! How was she supposed to differentiate one thing from another? Shaking her head, she darted behind a tree, finding a brief respite.

The limbs above her head caught her attention: their gentle sway brought a smile to Sprite's lips. In the blink of an eye, she was climbing the trunk and touching each and every limb, helping the leaves to grow. It might be the middle of summer, but that was no excuse for leaves not being green!

By the time she finished, the tree was full of budding life again. Sighing happily, Sprite settled on a branch at the very top of the tree. From there, she had the perfect vantage point of the spacious sky. With the sun on her face and the wind in her hair, she could almost pretend she was at home.

Almost. When she looked down, she knew she was somewhere entirely different. Sprite was scared. What was she supposed to do here? Did this place need her? What would happen to her land? Frowning, she covered her face and tried her best not to think about her dear friend, the Elk.

He...would be okay. He had to be.

A few tears fell anyway, falling to the ground and splashing. Where they fell, new buds sprang up, creating a small patch of green.

Comments

[nonomoribird.livejournal.com]

It had been awhile since Yorda had been outside the city; in fact, she hadn't bothered to leave ever since the Master had summoned her to the beach (and hadn't it been awhile since she'd seen him? she should see if he was alright). But the sound of leaves rustling drew her attention, and if the sound caught her up, then the sight of a strange shape touching the tree drew the princess closer. As usual, Yorda simply ignored the guard - who, by now, knew better than to believe the girl would listen to his feeble protests - and walked in the strange creature's direction, a wondrous gasp escaping her as her face lit up.

"How are you doing that?" she asked, awe obvious in her soft, gentle voice.

[spring-sprite.livejournal.com]

The sound of Yorda's voice was foreign. Sprite didn't know what to make out of it, but she could sense gentleness in the strange creature's tone. That alone coaxed her down from her perch. As she approached Yorda, she wound around the tree, leaving a plethora of new leaves on each branch she touched. Once she reached the ground, she took on a more human appearance, though her skin and hair were still a startling green.

"...?" she blinked her large eyes and held out her hand. A flower bloomed in her palm; the petals were a beautiful shade of crimson and gold.

[nonomoribird.livejournal.com]

Yorda looked up at the strange, beautiful creature, an expression of pure wonder on her face. The girl carefully stepped closer to the strange creature and cautiously reached out to touch the flower. Duma would like her; the angel loved flowers. She smiled brightly at the sprite. "Is is beautiful," she told the other being. "How are you doing that?" Another moment, and it occurred to Yorda to introduce herself. "My name is Yorda. What is your name?"

[spring-sprite.livejournal.com]

Sprite handed Yorda the flower: it was clearly meant as a gift. She nodded at the girl's assessment, surprising herself. Touching her lips, she frowned and attempted Yorda's language.

"Name? I am...many things."

She was a season; she was Spring. Creating flowers - amongst other things - was second nature.

"I am creation."

Most of all, that was what she was.

[nonomoribird.livejournal.com]

Yorda smiled at the strange woman as she accepted it, cupping the flower gently in her hands. "Thank you," she said gratefully, admiring it. "I will take care of it." But how could this person be creation? Perhaps she was like a benevolent version of Yorda's mother, who had been the one to hold the castle - and, indeed, the entire island - together; when the woman had died, the island began to sink. But then, Yorda had never seen her mother create flowers; she had considered them useless, trivial things.

"How do you do that?" Yorda asked the green woman, curious. SHe had never seen that done before.