Welcome to Gaia! ::

Drazio did not hear Poke at first, so enamoured was he by Kameko's lovely hair. Then her words pushed through his fuzzy brain and he blinked. A few particles of dirt fell from his claw as he processed her comment. "This is my den," he said.

The speckled european nodded to Papilio. "Yes. Take one of each; that one, that one, and that," he quietly ordered and pointed at several different blooms. "Kameko's hair, eyes, and beauty, they look like. I don't have them. And those two. They look nice. Just take one; I'll make more."

The speckled dragon nodded at Kameko's tutorage, glad that the butterkyn would not be recklessly destroying any more flowers, and delighted that Kameko herself had such an interest in his most favourite of hobbies. He made a note to find out later how much she actually knew, and how much she would like to learn. Anything to keep her to himself a little longer. He hadn't counted her fur yet.

Drazio collected what other specimens he deemed fit, and held them in a dirty clump in one forepaw so that he stood ungainly. Once all participating had retrieved the desired flowers (he made sure that they did not miss one), he cleared his voice as though he did not use it often.

"Follow me," he said. As an afterthought, he said by way of explanation, "To my den."

Then he disappeared from their view, as though he had been a projection on a pane of glass and the light was doused suddenly. Far away from them but not at all, Drazio watched as the land around him changed to the familiar landscape of his fast twilit gardens, a gentle mist descending from the clouds.

Drazio was quickly shocked by Poke's predicament - as soon as he noticed, that was. With the greatest care he set his prized flowers upon the ground and took some steps forward that indicated he was going to rush in. Then, in a burst of mental clarity not normal associated with the obsessive kyn, though perhaps in keeping with his random thoughts, he stopped and looked askance at the pond.

The water, at the insistence of the kyn who mastered this part of Draconomica, drained out into a shallow pool on a cleft below them, leaving Poke in a very muddy depression. "This will be a good place to plant," said Drazio, with a hint of good-natured humour.

Drazio's face worried itself with a look of genuine concern at Poke's predicament. He stepped forward to lend his strength, and stepped back again when it was clear that Papilio was managing fine on his own. The green-speckled dragon looked around himself for something that he could use to apologize with.

Finding no towel-trees conveniently sprouting anywhere, he glanced at Kameko to communicate his distress and hoped that she had some good idea. The thought of just making a towel-tree did occur to him, but he non-violently pushed it away; that was not how one tended a garden.

Drazio tilted his head at Poke's question. "Er, no. I've seen nothing like that happen before." To illustrate his confusion he lifted the uprooted flowers from the soft mossy grass. "They're not planting themselves," he said. Then he blinked and a single-minded look came over his face. He gathered what flowers he could, perhaps assuming that the others would follow his example and obviously uncaring if they were, and brought them over to the quickly dehydrating pondbed.

The green-speckled kyn quickly arranged them in the best pattern to encourage the healthy growth of all, and then he blinked again and some of the real world filtered back to him. "Kameko," he said over his wingshoulder, "Come here, please. Tell me which ones you like."