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Entry tags:
I'd but smell the growing things
WHO: Siuona and [your face here]
WHAT: Let's check out this here garden!
WHEN: After more or less everyone has arrived at Skyhold.
WHERE: Skyhold garden
NOTES: Open to all!
It was a quiet, chilly morning when Siuona felt strong enough to leave her tent among the healers. With a warm woven halla shawl around her shoulders and slippers on her pale feet, she bundled her belongings in a corner of the tent and secreted herself away to the courtyard where she knew the communal garden to be.
Over the course of her convalescence, Sina had become increasingly homesick for the wooded Free Marches, and had felt her spirits weakening to a point where she knew, from the healer's perspective, that it would affect her recovery if she didn't find a way to occupy herself.
'You're so dramatic', she scoffed under her breath in muttered Elvhen, tugging the shawl around herself as she made her way through the dark, drafty hall and through the archway into the cloister. 'Have some self-sufficiency.'
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of all the vegetation; having spent the last several weeks tromping around in snow-covered mountains and then wallowing inside a tent inside impassible stone walls, the sight of greenery was enough to bring a sudden rush of tears to her eyes.
Shivering from the chill and her lingering weakness, Sina approached the rows of pots and sat by what she knew to be elfroot, tenderly running her fingers over the leaves, mopping absently at her still-streaming eyes with the sleeve of her tunic. It wasn't until she had refocused her gaze on the elfroot, and really looked at it, that she abruptly noticed something strange.
Why was so much of it missing, and so ineloquently clipped?
WHAT: Let's check out this here garden!
WHEN: After more or less everyone has arrived at Skyhold.
WHERE: Skyhold garden
NOTES: Open to all!
It was a quiet, chilly morning when Siuona felt strong enough to leave her tent among the healers. With a warm woven halla shawl around her shoulders and slippers on her pale feet, she bundled her belongings in a corner of the tent and secreted herself away to the courtyard where she knew the communal garden to be.
Over the course of her convalescence, Sina had become increasingly homesick for the wooded Free Marches, and had felt her spirits weakening to a point where she knew, from the healer's perspective, that it would affect her recovery if she didn't find a way to occupy herself.
'You're so dramatic', she scoffed under her breath in muttered Elvhen, tugging the shawl around herself as she made her way through the dark, drafty hall and through the archway into the cloister. 'Have some self-sufficiency.'
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of all the vegetation; having spent the last several weeks tromping around in snow-covered mountains and then wallowing inside a tent inside impassible stone walls, the sight of greenery was enough to bring a sudden rush of tears to her eyes.
Shivering from the chill and her lingering weakness, Sina approached the rows of pots and sat by what she knew to be elfroot, tenderly running her fingers over the leaves, mopping absently at her still-streaming eyes with the sleeve of her tunic. It wasn't until she had refocused her gaze on the elfroot, and really looked at it, that she abruptly noticed something strange.
Why was so much of it missing, and so ineloquently clipped?
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"Oh, yes. I was. When there were Circles. It's...different. Out here. But you're from the for- the dalish."
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That was a thing, he was sure of it. Elves staying away from humans when they could help it.
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"I'd never seen a human before," she confessed, "they're... perhaps not quite as bad as I'd imagined."