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Post by Nadia on Oct 8, 2021 8:33:22 GMT -6
The koguma blinks, and looks towards where you gesture. If it is possible for a creature such as this to blanch at the sight of something, it does - it clicks in dismay. You're not going to feed it to that nasty thing, are you? No, no... you're motioning to a spot that looks much safer. So the little insect begins to potter over, but stops to look over its shoulder. Are you accompanying it to safety?
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 8, 2021 8:47:20 GMT -6
Ah, most excellent. The insect had understood the intended gesture, despite such reservations. The nightshade would yet fail to rue another encounter, thus sparing the poor thing from an undeserved wrath most terrible. The lepus observed the insect's motions, to ensure it would be far enough as to be considered beyond her borders, and thus safe. However, its sudden halt and questioning look was rather unexpected. In so far the creatures here had displayed a sense of caution towards the nightshade and himself in rather equal measure. Trust was a fleeting fancy, one which only came in shades.
And yet, it was sought from him within that very moment. "Hmm.. Very well," the mammalian nodded in agreement, and picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow. Perhaps an onerous contraption to the insect, it was also rather full of all manner of fruit, vegetables, grasses and flowers, of which it might take an interest in. He could accompany it to the shaded location and ensure it felt safe enough to remain, before resuming to tidy up.
|103| Summer: 103 Morelle: 23 (3/5) / 20 (3/5)
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Post by Nadia on Oct 13, 2021 3:35:33 GMT -6
Ooh! The koguma peers into the wheelbarrow and clicks again, having caught sight of the bounty within. Even better! You can accompany it to the safe space, and then share a fruit, if you'd be so kind. It looks content to walk alongside you, in your shadow, to avoid any unwanted attention...
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 13, 2021 13:33:02 GMT -6
A fair sort of irony, for the insect to shadow the lepus, due to the conflict of such with his physical nature. He still cast a shade as a general rule, as much was true. There was no arcane forces at work to rob him of such. Though it was not cast in a conventional manner, for the soft luminance of the pale of the fur heightened and caused it to shift and change based upon the direction of either head or arms. Faintly, subtly.. but irrevocably. So where the insect sought to be unseen, it was in truth made only that small part more so.
It was not enough to draw the attentions of the nightshade, for she had since grown accustomed to his strange style of appearance. And, perhaps, in this the luminance served better as warning than invite to any predator on the outside looking in. The strangeness a deterrent, thus sparing the insect from trouble.
Upon reaching the spot, the lepus carefully settled the wheelbarrow once more, and reached into it to retrieve a fruit from before, offering it to the insect. "I would suspect you to be hungry. You may have this, should you wish."
|104| Summer: 104 Morelle: 23 (4/5) / 20 (4/5)
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Post by Nadia on Oct 15, 2021 3:21:09 GMT -6
Safe passage to its destination, and an offering of food...? The koguma can't believe it. It reaches out to take the fruit with a grateful click - if it's possible for an insect to smile with its eyes, it would appear to be doing so. You've made a friend.
[Congratulations, you have successfully tamed the creature!]
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 15, 2021 4:01:05 GMT -6
With the agreement completed, the lepus remained lingering a while longer. While the insect was well safe from the nightshade's gaze for such a time, he wished to ensure it would not stray back into the threatening fold as yet. This allowed him a respite in the same turn, to observe the creature in more close detail, and to take stock of the effects of the rain.
It was in particular the latter concern that troubled his mind. The effects have been dire enough as to leave even Morelle stranded, despite her proven headstrong nature. In this it was not always the size which factored into potential damage, but the force of the rain, in truth. Too strong a rain could have damaged leaves and petals, preventing the blooms from completing before the final passing of the summer's last days. And if such plants adhered to the nature of seasons, he would yet have to wait another year to see them bloom again, to find what might yet grow in this soil.
A dissection of only the potential, for there was little else he could have done then and there. The damage had already been done, so he would merely have to return another day to asses and rectify it.
|105| (counted) Summer: 105 Morelle: 24 (0/5) / 21 (0/5)
(To round out the last summer posts left over from the taming.)
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Post by Silver on Oct 18, 2021 19:47:25 GMT -6
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 19, 2021 9:13:43 GMT -6
The seasons turned upon the days, settling for colder weather and ever darker hours. It was then the season which captivated so many, and yet one which the lepus perhaps found in the poorest of tastes. A solemn time for quiet contemplation, and the remembrance of those who had passed before, thus turned into carnival and glorification of death. There was healing to be found in objecting to the inevitability of death, certainly, by ways of enhancing and embracing live that much more. Yet the manner of these city's celebrations often left him with poor composure, certainly when the subject came to the popularity of raising the dead as a form of party trick.
They had earned their rest and their peace. No soul should be disturbed merely to serve as entertainment.
To remedy this, the lepus sought a distraction within the gardens, though perhaps some would more aptly describe it as seclusion. There was work to be done with the greenhouse growths, such as the root plant, and if it removed him from such paltry disrespect towards the dead, perhaps all the better.
|1| Fall: 1 Jacinthe: 0 (1/5) / 0 (1/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 19, 2021 14:15:53 GMT -6
Much of the garden yet suffered from the effects of the flood, yet the days had been cold and humid. Where the excess of water had receded early, much of the soil remained soft and muddy, making it far too precarious to wade through. The lepus had spent a day fixing the stone path as was, readjusting stones which had skewed, while adding sand and gravel beneath parts of the path which had sunk. It was as much as he could complete, until drier weather, perhaps a spot of geese autumn, could assist in making other parts more accessible.
It did not leave him want for work, all the same. The greenhouse had been purpose-built over the frame of an old shed, which had resided here before. And although its foundations were new, it's glass shining, the shelves still carrying a scent of wax, and floors freshly paved, there was little life to be found among the various planters.
|2| Fall: 2 Jacinthe: 0 (2/5) / 0 (2/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 19, 2021 14:21:56 GMT -6
A creature did reside here, two in matter of fact, though he wished to focus upon the one for the time being. A creature of roots and few leaves, with a seasonal rotation unlike the nightshade. A creature most curious due to its basic nature and pattern of behaviour. Where the nightshade a modicum of intelligence, or comprehending the situation around her, the skutirut (as it was called) did not portray anything that could be seen as a form of personality.
It did not prefer one planter box to the other, nor seek to react to his presence or lack thereof. Indeed, he could only have wondered if the root-plant could even understand a sense of danger and avoid it, though it not seem to intentionally put itself in harm's way. Perhaps it's perception, then, wasn't based around visual cues, as other creatures were, but rather on the more direct ability to sense a threat incoming, and thus avoid it before it could become an issue?
|3| Fall: 3 Jacinthe: 0 (3/5) / 0 (3/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 19, 2021 14:28:10 GMT -6
To understand the root-plant was to understand the higher forms of plant-creatures, and the lepus had long since understood there was much still for him to learn of such intricate distinctions. For one, the root-plant had no preference to its location, except for two simple factors - light and soil. It would choose to root within a box with not only the best light, but also the most loam in the soil. Were there to be only one of the two, the root-plant would opt for the loam.
Quite a peculiar response, when one considered light to be one of the most essential factors to a plant's good growth. Or perhaps he had simply misunderstood the purpose of the choice, as he begun to suspect once the creature's colouration had begun to change. Winter, after all, was a time of darkness, and cold. There would be little light for it to survive upon, but a patch of excellent loam could yet endure it until spring.
|4| Fall: 4 Jacinthe: 0 (4/5) / 0 (4/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 19, 2021 14:33:37 GMT -6
Of course, the greenhouse would remain warmer even in the dead of winter, and the root-plant might not even come to notice such drastic as a change. Though it appeared to be preparing for such, regardless - The skutirut had found a location meeting its distinctions, and settled into a planter closest to the windows. It was that row which was one of the few placed within the greenhouse to sprout other types of growths, for the lepus had had but a handful of mixed seeds once the reparations of the garden had completed. He had planted them there, curious to see what sprouted, though likewise having little expectations towards anything beyond simple grass and weeds.
To his surprise that morning, then, there had been a blossoming, though a chaotic one. He had brought more seeds to be planted, only to discover a variety of results from the previous ones. As such, he pulled on the leather working gloves, and set about to sorting through these plants, to class like with like.
|5| Fall: 5 Jacinthe: 1 (0/5) / 1 (0/5)
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Post by Nadia on Oct 20, 2021 3:55:25 GMT -6
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 21, 2021 2:39:47 GMT -6
The bounty of the gardens was said to be quite plentiful, as claimed by the books on the subject matter. In so far as the lepus had experienced it, the proof to the claim laid within the storage crates of the shed. A multitude of strange fruits, types of grass, flowers and vegetables. None of which he had planted himself. So, too, seemed the fledgling results of the greenhouse experiment. None of the seeds there had been bought with purpose, but merely gathered from around the garden grounds when reparations were made.
And yet, such unknown seeds produced results. Beneath a tangle of vines close to the root-plant, of which the lepus had almost suspected to be an invasive species of weeds, there was instead a bundle of what appeared a form of grape. Rather doubtful they were of a quality to make wine, though perhaps would have sufficed as a side to a serving of cheese.
|6| Fall: 6 Jacinthe: 1 (1/5) / 1 (1/5)
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 21, 2021 4:09:26 GMT -6
Additionally, the grapes themselves could become seeds for a crop all their own. If one assumed the type to include seeds, as the city's fashions for cuisine were rather peculiar in terms of preference for fruit. There were many types which had been purpose-bred to include little to no seeds at all. Perhaps to make them easier to eat, though the flavour at times left one wanting. The other issue, too, was no such fruit could be used to plan a crop to follow, limiting such seeds to but a small collection of producers.
The lepus held up a grape from the bunch to the light of the window. As the sun shone through, it highlighted the fruit with a play of silhouettes, outlining the interior with faint shadows of what was within. And indeed, faintly the seeds were visible against the dark of the skin. Most excellent. While vineyard was not yet something he planned to explore, it would be good to have the potential on hand.
|7| Fall: 7 Jacinthe: 1 (2/5) / 1 (2/5)
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