OPEN | prompt three | PAIN

[wrens]

prompt three | P A I N dressing-room style. start your own thread. tag others. wash, rinse, repeat. open to all.

 

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[copse]

[ She is not the witch he would have chosen to tether himself to in either service or loyalty but Primrose understands that even the oldest powers must bend to thinks like chaos and fate. Ambrose had given herself to the forest and the forest had opened to her. It was only right that he, being the heart of the woods, give himself to her in turn.

His hand lingers on her brow, fingertips stained with sap and dust feeling along her hairline meditatively. ]

The winds will change soon enough. We'll see to the boughs. Ensure they don't shake.

[closed]

The big ones shake the most, [ Ambrose whispers, focusing on Primrose's face beyond the plane of his hand.

(She is not the witch he would have chosen, had things been otherwise, and sometimes she realizes it and sometimes she doesn't. But she is grateful, no matter what.) ]

The little ones shake but they don't sway. Not carrying as much weight.