[P] lead me out into the light

[Florentine]

i'm a pretty flower girl
check out my pretty flower curls

She still ached from the night before. It was the night she returned to Terrastella and joined in the revel Asterion had put on. She drew and laughed and painted and danced. Then in her room she had wept in her bed, with joy and with worry.
 
Lysander was gone, pursuing the life debt he was owed, seeking his vengeance. It was his moment beneath the sun and Florentine gave him that. She stopped, stood back and let him go. Yet she did not think that a child would come in his absence. She did not think as she let her broken wing dampen her spirits that a child would come and make nothing be about just her or Lysander anymore.
 
What good is a once queen with a broken wing and a broken heart? It is such a thought that drives her back up into the treetop walkways of the hospital. The last she had been here was as a dying queen with no memory of who she was. Such somber thoughts have the girl moving slowly along the wooded walkways. Emerald light gleams from the ceiling of leaves and tangled branches.
 
There is art in the hospital. Art of the Ilati, art of the woodland, and the art of healing. Florentine’s wing is bound tight to her side, the cloth dirtied and ragged. Her breath stutters in her lungs but she smoothes it out in a breath and lets a wing press against her side. Stopping at a door, she moves to knock and she might have done, had the healer not already noticed her.
 
An answering smile pours like caramel across her lips and her head bobs, “Hello… Are you Samaira?” The flower girl pauses for a moment, swallowing down memories of blood and agony from the last time she was here. “I broke my wing a while ago and I was told that you might be able to heal it for me?”
 
Sunlight filters through the boughs turning her glittering gold. “My name is Florentine, by the way. May I come in?”

@Samaira 

florentine
rocking your pretty flower world