determined -|- caring -|- smart
bossy -|- know-it-all -|- unsocialized
AMANITA
THERE LIVES IN THE MURK OF THE BOGS a lonely Aisulu, a hermit in the swamp.
Her fur, creamy paleness patterned with the purple of the clouds of a stormy sunrise, and the
deep, greenish gray of the mud of her home. She lives on her own, but she is never wont for
company. She speaks to the plants, and the small animals. They do not speak back (at least,
not to her) but she finds their presence most comforting. She knows the strange ways and
customs of the bog - how the waters rise and fall, but stay the same; how to find the sweetest
grasses, and which parts of the plants were not to be eaten; and, how to get well again if one
made such a foolish mistake as to eat those parts anyways. She also knew how to make shelter of
the vines and saplings, and had made herself a nice, small place to live that was surprisingly dry.
In front, there is a small 'gordeen', as she calls it, without quite knowing why, filled with nice herbs,
like onion and garlic. She is fond of Onions and garlic, and eats them when the tends her gordeen.
She had a quiet, peaceful life, of growing and wading and talking to the plants and animals.
But, mostly, she was alone, and sad at heart.
UNTIL, ONE DAY...
bossy -|- know-it-all -|- unsocialized
AMANITA
THERE LIVES IN THE MURK OF THE BOGS a lonely Aisulu, a hermit in the swamp.
Her fur, creamy paleness patterned with the purple of the clouds of a stormy sunrise, and the
deep, greenish gray of the mud of her home. She lives on her own, but she is never wont for
company. She speaks to the plants, and the small animals. They do not speak back (at least,
not to her) but she finds their presence most comforting. She knows the strange ways and
customs of the bog - how the waters rise and fall, but stay the same; how to find the sweetest
grasses, and which parts of the plants were not to be eaten; and, how to get well again if one
made such a foolish mistake as to eat those parts anyways. She also knew how to make shelter of
the vines and saplings, and had made herself a nice, small place to live that was surprisingly dry.
In front, there is a small 'gordeen', as she calls it, without quite knowing why, filled with nice herbs,
like onion and garlic. She is fond of Onions and garlic, and eats them when the tends her gordeen.
She had a quiet, peaceful life, of growing and wading and talking to the plants and animals.
But, mostly, she was alone, and sad at heart.
UNTIL, ONE DAY...
