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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 11:00:42 GMT -6
And yet there stood evidence to the contrary. A creature both small and round, scavenging through the tall grass as if home. It seemed the garden was yet able to resist expectations. Perhaps rightfully so, for it was in many ways a temple to the living. More so, to that which lives, dies, and gives life onto others. The graveyard was a place of peace found through reflective sorrow, but it was stagnant. The dead did not bring forth life, not like the plants in the garden did. Here, the dead ones would decay and fade, making the ground fertile for their progeny and others, to bring new life in place of the old. Time and time again, an everlasting cycle.
Even the nightshade was part of such, though if one wasn't careful she could inflict more direct enforcement of the everlasting cycle by initiating it perhaps a bit earlier than intended. For now, she seemed content to merely observe this intruder to her domain, much to the lepus' appreciation.
|10| (counted) Summer: 10 Morelle: 5 (0/5) / 2 (0/5)
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Post by Nadia on Aug 27, 2021 12:52:13 GMT -6
It doesn't look like this bunana is ripe yet... or is it supposed to look like that?
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 13:33:47 GMT -6
The intruder, for all it's appointed title, did not seem to have any ill intent. As such, the lepus soon lost interesting in watching it, content to allow it its freedom. Where the nightshade might find herself reticent to share space with anything but herself, the mammalian was not so inclined. The garden was welcome to any form of life that sought refuge here, great or small. The conditions of such refuge were some, but none that could not be easily abided. The nightshade, perhaps, could find it difficult to oblige to them, but the lepus did not fault her anger at the face of the unknown, for he knew it to be rooted in fear rather than intent.
"Allow it to be," he told the serpent, and resumed his work. The gap in the ground where the mint plant had been was patched over with fresh loam. Those plants that surrounded it were largely pulled up, for many of them were weeds or simply undesired in this patch of the thicket.
|11| Summer: 11 Morelle: 5 (1/5) / 2 (1/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 13:40:42 GMT -6
As much as the garden was sanctuary, it was also grounds for struggle and warfare of a different fashion. Space was largely plentiful, to a humanoid's perception. A plant, however, had a much smaller world, with much greater desperation and strive to survive. It was not unusual to find patches such as this where the struggle had evolved to become a layered strive for existence. Higher and taller by stalk, closer to sunlight. Likewise deeper and further by root, closer to rainwater and nutrients. Left unchecked, these plants could have undertaken much of the area with sufficiently given time. And would rather avoid having to repeatedly intrude upon the nightshade's domain to clean such, unless necessary.
The torn stalks were tossed aside, on top of the rest. Each would still find its way to the compost boxes, where their ending life can yet help foster new ones elsewhere in the garden, thus continuing the cycle still.
|12| Summer: 12 Morelle: 5 (2/5) / 2 (2/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 13:46:45 GMT -6
With hardly a thought to it, the lepus had managed to clean that portion of the tall grass patch. This meant he had to move onto the next, though loathsome the switch would be. Taking the shovel for support, it took effort to stand, though the other leg supported him well. The discarded weeds were gathered and added to the barrow, to be disposed of at a later time. He pulled the folded canvas forwards along the edge of the tall grass, towards where the next part of the task would follow.
All the while, the silent observer did not move. To her credit, he had nary seen her, despite an observant nature and well-suited gaze. Visuals not withstanding, the nightshade had not been the most silent of stalkers, however. The lepus might have paid little attention to her position with intent, but his ears were long and sharp, thus allowing him an understanding of her general location, regardless.
|13| Summer: 13 Morelle: 5 (3/5) / 2 (3/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 13:55:29 GMT -6
The lepus was slow to kneel down again, leaning much heavier upon the good leg than the afflicted one. It's pain had the quality to come and go without much warning, though long periods of physical work certainly didn't improve such odds. Mercifully, once he's down, the pressure alleviated enough to allow him to continue working. The ticket here was deeper, as it was closest to the rock. Before, he had been avoiding the general area, for fear of inciting the nightshade. Now, with having come this close, it was as practical as it was a test of boundaries. Untrimmed, the thicket would have soon shadowed the rock and choked much of the grass around it. Thus, even the nightshade would have been deprived of cover closer to ground, in trading for a sparse, uneven canopy above.
The hands begun pulling up the weeds, while the ears remains alert to the nightshade's moods on this. A sound may have well been his only warning, in such regard.
|14| Summer: 14 Morelle: 5 (4/5) / 2 (4/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 14:01:07 GMT -6
There was expectation for a strike to come sooner rather than later. It was well known the nightshade wasn't a subtle creature, with abundant tolerance. Perhaps it was somewhat to his surprise that he didn't hear anything coming from her showing intent to strike. Merely there were slight sounds of the head moving, to adjust as to keep him within view. It was a positive notion, for that time being.
The plants themselves were thicker and stubborn, resisting the weeding fiercely. And with good reason. They had been given years to settle within this space, from neglect. Nothing short of resistance would do, for their roots went deeper than others. The lepus pulled out one particular clump of such when something bring green tumbled after within its wake. Not a weed, and not a rooted plant, but a fruit of some sort. To his mind, there were no trees bearing such that he recalled, though given the arcane nature many things here, perhaps it need not be borne from a tree to grow.
|15| Summer: 15 Morelle: 6 (0/5) / 3 (0/5)
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Post by Nadia on Aug 27, 2021 14:36:52 GMT -6
This grass isn't a weed - that's a pleasant change!
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 16:37:26 GMT -6
The lepus picked up the fruit for a closer inspection. For all the world is was pear-shaped, though much too evenly proportioned. There were fruits from more exotic regions of the world which held similar stylings, yet none quite matched. Curious.. quite curious. For such a time being, he placed the fruit into the wheelbarrow. Perhaps later he could find the time to research this and see where it's purpose lay. There were certainly some plants with more inherent tendencies and uses towards herbal medicines. Quite possible this type of fruit could land in one such category.
With attention fixed to work once more, the lepus resumed pulling out the unwanted and obstructing weeds from within the thicket. Many were large and well-grown, thus easier to hold, pull and dispose of. Some even large enough as to rival tendrils of the nightshade herself, which he had to take careful mind of, as to not risk retaliation. The serpent remained docile, but it would surely not leave provocation unanswered.
|16| Summer: 16 Morelle: 6 (1/5) / 3 (1/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 16:52:15 GMT -6
The mammalian had an understand of where her head might lay among the grass and shrub, but the serpent's body was long, as much he knew. It could be coiled about the rocks in loose circles, or kept close and tight to herself, out of fear. Speed was little without precision to accompany it. A wrong move could spell utter disaster for the disposition he would hope to build between them. And to force a defence against attack could frighten the creature further into her self-inflicted isolation. No damage, of course. There were ways to fend her off without such brutal necessity. Though, damage did not always come in quite so physical form.
Thus, the lepus took care to watch before taking action against elements of the thicket. If the nightshade had not such aversion towards tools being used, perhaps the speed of it could have been hastened with a sickle. As it was, he did not feel that such sharpened implement would cause her comfort, but rather the opposite.
|17| Summer: 17 Morelle: 6 (2/5) / 3 (2/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 16:58:21 GMT -6
The tardiness of the process did produce one surprising benefit, however. To cover a swath of land would have merely required a well-honed scythe. For places less accessible, the sickle would have sufficed. In each case, though, it would have cut many plants in one go, perhaps even ones not quite so intended. It would have been easy enough to miss during the process of the work. Working slower, by hand alone, the lepus could inspect and see plants that would be worth sparing.
One such incident occurred but a short time following the discovery of the fruit. As the thicket was cleared and dead branches pulled and discarded, a patch of grass came to light. It was not quite the same the rest which surrounded the nightshade's figurative den, for it was much brighter and livid than the rest. The lepus did not know the name of the genus or make of it's type, but there was a strangeness enough to it that he assumed to leave it alone.
|18| Summer: 18 Morelle: 6 (3/5) / 3 (3/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 17:05:38 GMT -6
A weed was a weed. He had versed himself enough in agriculture to recognise the most common of the types. The others had been knowledge gradually absorbed from a number of locations and fellow scholars. And yet much was still left unlearned, so perhaps it was more this indecision that spared him from merely pulling up the plant. There's a pause long enough to pull off the heavy gloves and take a worn, if not slightly stained journal from the barrow. The rustling nearby gives signal to the nightshade's reaction to this change of movement, though she does not approach. Quite likely she might have assume he reached for a tool, but quieted again when she could not recognise the book as one.
It was the benefit of scholarly education that allowed the lepus to note and transcribe much of what was encountered, endured or recognised within the confines of the journal. Now, too, he was able to add a description and a study sketch of this newly encountered species, to research upon later.
|19| Summer: 19 Morelle: 6 (4/5) / 3 (4/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 27, 2021 17:11:33 GMT -6
Once the sketch had been completed, the lepus closed the book, binding it with the leather cord once more, and tucking the pending in the spine. The sounds of the journal being places back into the wheelbarrow seemed to produce what could be considered a positive reaction from the nightshade as well. The sound was faint, but distinctly one of pulling back once more, gradual and intentional, rather than fear. It occurs to him that perhaps he should seek to bring more objects to the garden, merely to have in her presence. The more time spend around such objects, perhaps the greater the ease with them, and the nightshade might not become quite so displeased to change as a result.
It was something to ponder upon for the future. For the there and then, the lepus resumed his work. The thicket around the grass patch was sorted through and undesired elements rooted up, while he took care to avoid damaging the unusual grass itself. If ever he would need to return for a sample, an undamaged specimen was much more preferable.
|20| (counted) Summer: 20 Morelle: 7 (0/5) / 4 (0/5)
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Post by Nadia on Aug 28, 2021 4:24:48 GMT -6
It would seem something else is waiting to be discovered among the weeds and thicket, too. The lotine hasn't noticed you yet - it's sleeping peacefully, curled into a lazy S shape. Would it be prudent to wake it before you proceed? That decision is yours alone.
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Post by Evainmoire on Aug 28, 2021 10:12:14 GMT -6
As the lepus resumed to work, there was little to alert him to the presence of the creature among the grass. It had not moved nor made a sound. There could have also been credible reason to the assumption it had already been there for some time, inadvertently in stealth from the senses of either two. The lepus, too, would have gladly allowed it to remain there had he but known, but where the garden was his property, the ticket around the rocks was the territory of the nightshade.
Whether the lotine had intruded by intent, accident or some arcane form of arrival was of no consequence to her. It was intrusion all the same. Indeed, the lepus would perhaps never noticed the lotine at all, if the nightshade had not suddenly shifted within her own hiding spot. The motion was rapid and nervous, causing the mammalian's ear to register it, and he knew something was amiss. It was the first time he looked up to see where the nightshade would have been and only saw the rustling of grass as it snaked towards the lotine. He suspected her intent was not cordial..
|21| Summer: 21 Morelle: 7 (1/5) / 4 (1/5)
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