◊ let it water a parched throat with warm summer rain ◊
A bright yellow plant was hardly an unusual sight in Brightwood. However, this particular plant had yellow petals, not leaves. The flower had eked out a living among a smattering of young saplings, thriving despite the fact that the tall trees above stole most of the sunlight. The bud at the top of the stem had grown, and grown, until it was so swollen that the stem couldn't hold it up. The stem bowed down until the bud rested upon the earth, and only then did the flower bloom.
Most flowers simply opened up their petals, lured in some bees, and called it good. Not this flower! To start, the bright yellow petals unfurled much faster than any ordinary flower could be bothered to move. Instead of a pistil, a dark brown tail uncurled from within. Instead of stamens, four dark brown paws popped out, black-clawed toes wiggling to banish a most unwelcome numbness. The bright yellow flower petals faded and dulled as they wrapped around the bowed stem, and that was when things got weird. The narrow leaves around the base of the bud withered and twisted until they became a brown-furred body. Something similar happened to the stem, which faded nearly to white before it tore itself right out of the ground and gasped for air.
Snapdragon sneezed once, twice, thrice. It wiped the dirt from its muzzle with a paw, only to realize that said paw was— Snapdragon squinted— too big. Or too small? Hmm. Snapdragon set the problematic paw down for now, and twisted to squint at its wings. They were shriveled and wrinkled, just like withered flower petals— just like when they'd first grown in years ago. The ceaseless efforts of Snapdragon's heart would soon expand all four wings to their full extent. Until then, it was grounded.
"Why is it colder?" it asked nobody in particular. This immediately begged a second question: "What's wrong with my voice?" After some squinting self-inspection, Snapdragon added a third question to the growing pile. "Why am I a puppy again?"
Snapdragon wasn't actually a puppy again, but it was unmistakably younger than it had been before... before... ah.
Huh. Snapdragon had always understood death to be somewhat permanent, but apparently not.
Once its wings had finished unfurling, it could take flight and take stock of these unfamiliar surroundings, and find some water and food. Fortunately, Snapdragon was a patient creature. The wait would not be too long.
There was a hole in the ground before it, lined with fractured flower-roots. Snapdragon studied the hole intently. It had never heard of a flower turning into a wolf— it'd certainly have remembered such a tale! But now it wondered... could such a thing happen in reverse? Would it possible to learn such a magic— or was this whole regrowing-from-a-flower business possible because Snapdragon already possessed that magic?
The days would soon be dwindling further into Fall, then Winter - but the woods had, so far, kept their colour and a full complement of leaves. Quinn wanted to visit some of the areas that nestled around Verdantis before the frost set in and on-foot travel became more difficult; not blessed with full wings, scouting on four legs was all Quinn could do. Better to know the area well before it was heaped with snow than to end up lost later.
The sentry’s sharp eyes were never still when he was reading the land: they darted from the peeling trunk of a silver birch, to the warm hues of the treetops, to a scrap of yellow flora between the trees, back to the canopy and - wait. That yellow seemed awfully out of place against the russets and golds of the everfall forest. Quinn drew in a long breath as he wove between the slim trunks of the towering trees, testing the air for scent. He could only identify flora so he picked up his pace, making a beeline for what he could soon see were withered petals.
It was what he saw upon trotting up to it that bamboozled him.
A pup sat there - at least, Quinnat thought it was a pup. It had fur, a face, legs, what appeared to be crinkled petals atop its back. It seemed to smell more of floral notes than wolf - but that couldn’t be right, unless it had been rolling in a meadow shortly before entering the Brightwood. He looked around for signs of some sort of caretaker but found no other presence.
“Are you…” A flower? An illusion? No, both would sound insane. Quinn settled for, “...lost?” He paused to taste the air again. “Where did you come from?”
◊ let it water a parched throat with warm summer rain ◊
Snapdragon looked up at the sound of pawsteps. Without flight, and reluctant to run around asking for wing damage, it was especially vulnerable. Snapdragon saw bright blue feathers first, and stood up. Then the rest of the shape registered, and Snapdragon relaxed. Feathered wolves were perfectly ordinary, after all, and though this particular wolf was a stranger to Snapdragon, that did not make them enemies.
Being fond of questions, Snapdragon always gave answers when it knew them, as was only polite. "Yes. I died, and regrew here." It did not elaborate, since it was unsure of the finer details. It only knew that it had certainly died, and time had passed, and now it was here, after having pulled its snout out of the ground. It sniffled, and rubbed more dirt off said snout with a forepaw.
The wings on its back twitched, still slowly but steadily inflating. The flowers growing in its fur were starting to bloom, too, but at a snail's pace that wouldn't become apparent for hours. It looked up at the blue stranger— rather high up, as this youthful body was shorter than normal, making Snapdragon less than half the blue stranger's height. "I am named Snapdragon, and I am called it," it said, having learned that it was most efficient to straighten the details out quickly. "Can you tell me where I am, please?"
Quinn listened with his usual rapt attention, his pale eyes widening at the flower-pup’s predicament. It was a peculiar one, for sure, and at first the mention of death brought a frown to his face. How could something so young in appearance have died and been reborn already? It didn’t occur to him - though he knew others had returned - that Snapdragon might’ve lived a full life before appearing in the forest. He didn’t try to hide his incredulity - he still wasn’t sure his nose hadn’t lied to him about its scent - but he didn’t want to pelt Snapdragon with his own questions when he knew the answer to the one being asked.
Still at a comfortable distance, the sentry’s elbows bent until his chest brushed the forest floor, removing some of the height discrepancy between the two. “This is the Brightwood.” His head swivelled for a moment to push a disorderly feather into its proper place. “And I’m Quinnat. Good to meet you, Snapdragon.” The larger wolf bobbed his head in his usual convivial manner, smiling in spite of the peculiarity of the situation. It cost nothing to offer some reassurance. “This forest -” Quinn pointed upward with his muzzle, “- is just part of a much larger place people call Argaia, if any of that sounds familiar.” Somehow, Quinn doubted they'd be that lucky.Quick explanation offered, he figured he could pose a question of his own:
◊ let it water a parched throat with warm summer rain ◊
Snapdragon was passably fluent in body language. It had deemed the skill necessary, after one too many avoidable confrontations. The demeanor of other wolves could warn of an impending attack, or a lie. But this overall attentive posture, combined with widened eyes, indicated simple curiosity. Then Quinnat lay down, and it would be difficult to appear less threatening.
Snapdragon remained standing. This way, neither of them would have to hold their necks at odd angles to converse across the height difference. With its tail hanging loose and ears turned slightly to the sides, Snapdragon itself shouldn't be mistaken as aggressive. Quinnat knew the name of this Brightwood, which meant he was familiar with it, unlike a passing traveler would be. If he lived here, odds were that he had a claimed territory and a pack to enforce that claim. Snapdragon had less than no desire to agitate any packs, especially while grounded.
But Snapdragon frowned. "I don't know these names." Snapdragon had wandered far and wide and learned the names of many lands, but neither of those Quinnat now shared. It was possible that Quinnat knew a familiar land by a different name, an oddity it had encountered only a few times. But it already knew that this Brightwood was unfamiliar. "I was in Woadfeld. I..." It paused, grimacing, before deciding that it didn't need to elaborate on that particular part of its story. "Myrtlark's pack kicked me out. Not— hmm. They weren't looking for new members, and a visitor eventually has to leave. Am I a visitor here also?"
Its wings readjusted with a shiver, tingling as they continued to inflate.
Quinn’s face dropped just a little when it revealed that the Brightwood and Argaia were unknowns. That made the likelihood of finding its guardian anywhere close by This pup might’ve lived more lives than Quinnat himself. He felt both awed and protective. The frown Snapdragon showed was mirrored in Quinn’s expression. He was troubled by the fact that a pup was out here alone and perplexed about how it had died and grown in an entirely different realm.
But Snapdragon continued as the scent of her namesake flowers grew more intense. It spoke of a land Quinnat wasn’t familiar with; of a pack expelling it. Had it overstayed its welcome somewhere?
The flower child asked a question that tugged at the Noble’s heartstrings. He huffed gently.
“We’re both visitors here in the Brightwood - but not too far away is where I live: Verdantis. If you need a place to get settled, you could be a visitor there - but you wouldn’t have to be a visitor forever.” He offered a reassuring smile.
“I can’t, in good conscience, leave you here.” Whether Snapdragon had lived previous lives or not, in this one, right now, it could be vulnerable.
Quinn stretched, his end end lifting, and then he was upright.
◊ let it water a parched throat with warm summer rain ◊
Quinnat raised an excellent point. Snapdragon lifted one of those too-small paws, still frowning slightly. Survival was difficult enough for a lone wolf, but it would be even harder in a body that hadn't yet grown into full strength. Snapdragon's retained experience and maturity simply weren't enough to overcome these physical limitations. How frustrating.
Well, it certainly made for good motivation to avoid dying again.
Quinnat had all but ordered Snapdragon to follow along to... wherever this Verdantis was, so Snapdragon saw no need to grasp at formalities. And it had seen no reason to refuse the offer. Quinnat seemed reasonable enough. "Quite right," it decided.
If things took a turn for the worse, those feathers did not appear to be flight-capable, unless Quinnat was hiding feathered wings as Larkspur often did... Larkspur. How long had it been? For Snapdragon, time seemed to have reversed, but was the same true of the rest of the world? Was Larkspur also a puppy again, learning how to fly in distant Hesta Plateau?
Snapdragon shook off the questions for now. Answers would have to come later. It peered up at Quinnat as he stretched, and stood, and proposed that they walk together. Four wings fluttered, still not fully unfurled, but, "Yes. Slowly. With plenty of room between us." Travel was possible, but Snapdragon was not about to make haste where it wasn't absolutely necessary. Best to go slowly and mindfully, and protect its delicate wings.
