Caring and nurturing were two things that Llewelyn had little skill or interest in, though appreciating that which had been nurtured by another was somewhat of a hobby for the mare. The weather lately had been wretched, and so in order to quell the cabin fever rising within her breast, the scholar had taken to wandering the greenhouse gardens. The greenhouse itself with massive glass paneling and soaring ceiling was a testament to the learned craftsmen of Dawn; there was no excuse for shoddy workmanship when one has such a grand library to reference and glean from.
As the sun continued to rise, following its predetermined path across the curved dome of the sky, Llewelyn found herself absorbed in various levels of admiration. Firstly, for the beauty of the blossoms that cascaded from nearly every surface; secondly, for the intoxicating scent, soft and earthy and so unlike the cloying perfumes that lined her counters; and thirdly, for the purity and respect that laced Ipomoea and Messalina’s interactions.
The pair had been speaking softly to one another a few rows from Llewelyn for awhile now, and though their conversation had an air of melancholy, the care each felt for the other was nearly palpable. To the maiden, the flower-adorned pair and their not-so-secret exchange was just as intriguing as the greenhouse blossoms. At times, the murmuring dipped below the mare’s hearing and she had to strain against the urge to move closer lest she be discovered.
And so she set up shop, ears cocked and golden eyes shimmering as a love story unfolded amid spring blooms and winter snows.
@Ipomoea @Messalina sorry for this wait as well!
