Child Of The Forest

*~*

[ She thoroughly enjoyed watching the boy. She also enjoyed the tingling feeling that lingered in her fingertips; it a feeling she had long forgotten to miss. She leaned forward again, smiling at him. ]

//He shakes his head, again nearly dislodging the faerie nestled in his hair - he realises this time, however, and reaches up to cup her in his hands instead. She's woken by the movement, and in seeing the flower, hovers over to it, circling and inspecting the plant, seemingly impressed. Arthur curls up, hugging his knees to his chest, and shakes his head again.

[ She places her hand on the ground in front of her. She took a deep breath and, calling back the magick she had when she was younger, murmured an almost-forgotten spell. There was a greenish glow from under her hand, and her hair danced in a breeze that seemed to come from no where. After a moment she pulled her hand away, tired but satisfied. A blood-red rose shot upwards and bloomed from the ground in front of them. She had forgotten how much energy it took and leaned back with a sigh. ]

//He watches, totally mesmerised as the flower rises out of the ground from nowhere and grows, beautiful in its perfection and the bright red colour of the petals almost out of place in this brown and green clearing. He lets out a joyous laugh and claps his hands, shuffling closer to look at the rose.

//Lars’ eyebrows raise significantly as the smaller nation draws his bow. It looks absolutely primitive (as does the rest of his clothing, though that’s not the point); however, the dutchman had no real room to speak on the matter. These weren’t exactly the days of old when he had worn armor all over the place. Though it probably wouldn’t do much damage with how small it was, it could still possibly deal a rather annoying blow.

//The bow is stronger than it looks, a longbow made by himself with the help of the fae, so some magic infused inside the wood keeps it strong and shoots arrows fast. His thick eyebrows furrow, glaring distrustfully at Lars, pulling the string slightly tighter in an unspoken threat to let the arrow loose.

[ she nods ]