❝Oh?❞   There was a level of surprise afoot, but ah’Jhyen did well not to gawk; any and all help was appreciated, after all——their garden was by no means one to be tended to by one pair of hands. (and still, they did it all without complaint.) Nudging some hairs from their face with the back of limb aforementioned, covered in soils and dirt, ah’Jhyen then used it to gesture freely at the line of floral bushes before then, whose growth was still awfully small.   ❝I could use some help in re-locating these weeds if you’re willing to help.❞   They were, but ah’Jhyen figured to re-inquire should they change their mind once seeing the task that was presented before them. (managing weeds was a daunting feat to many, this they learned.) 

          ❝They’re a bit too close to the others—making them nervous—so I’m just moving them a little further away. Once they realize they don’t have to do any competing to grow, I’m sure they’ll be friends in absolutely no time at all.❞   They spoke with such sureity as they once more fell into the task themself! O’ yes, this was the presence of a love unfiltered and unrelenting.   ❝Please be gentle when you handle them, too.❞

       As if they would turn down a chance to show mutual interest. Their interest held by all the wonderful flowers and how well ah’jhyen could communicate with them. Call it...even...inspiration, for they were close to nature---even in all of their lives. Link finds themself drawn to ah’jhyen and their work, an enthusuastic nod as blue eyes settled upon a row of flowers meant for them. Their hands reaching to gently dig up the weeds... A suitable relocation spot only a few feet away. Perfect.

      Enthusiastic nod for a yes. They are gentle as can be with their hands. Careful spot is dug out for the first one to be relocated. Hopefully this is a suitable spot. Unlike ah’jhyen, they cannot communicate with the weeds to figure out if it is. If they are wrong, hopefully ah’jhyen will tell them so. Though, it’s not often they go this far for weeds. Although, where they come from, weeds would not be wasted but used and given thanks for the nutrition or healing properties. It depended on the usage.

          They’re on their knees, hands working deep into the soil to remove a few choice weeds with a gentleness that not many would’ve offered these plants. But they are merciful as ever, and ask in silence for them not to harshen the peaceful lives of the other plants planted——and insist they can grow in their own space. And it was only after such terms were agreed upon that ah’Jhyen noticed that there was another in their midst; a person, and not a plant, at that.

          Lifting their head, they blink towards said stranger, ‘fore a smile blooms atop their lips.   ❝Yes, they’re mine.❞   Carefully the mound of dirt in their hands is lifted, and they re-plant the small weed further away from the bush of flowers.   ❝You’re free to look; I just ask that you be gentle with them. This summer is harsh… it dries their soil out much too fast. They’re quite cranky because of it.❞

Many people say talking to plants helps them grow.  They assume it is because of the carbon dioxide and not the actual talking which urged growth.  A fact they keep to themselves , and instead watch as the other tends to their garden with such tenderness.  It reminded them of someone , but they have not yet an idea who.  Such fondness for life is something Link can share.  Thus , they step lightly with practiced feet.  Link was by no means a clumsy person.

They admire the lush garden.   Finding beauty in the plants which seem to flourish.   Gaze particularly finds itself on a flower  ,  beautiful to gaze at and even more beautiful to smell.   The scent is sweet  ,  not to heavy on their sensitive nose.   These are the sights they miss.   So busy with their knightly duties....   Hardly time to stop and smell the flowers  ,  to take in the sight of nature.

Blue eyes lift up to meet those of this stranger , a tilt of the head. They’re silent in nature , observant. But for now there is no move made to engage in combat. Though they vaguely consider reaching for the hilt of sword and shield. It’s instinct , second nature to strike first as they’re weary from war and constant threat of attack. Not a word.

This time they’ve chosen to be silent.