Welcome to Gaia! ::

Observation

She was rolling her eyes at him while he didn't look. He was one of the men stationed at a lair to the western edge of the mainland. He has several medals, proofs of his honor and merit. A blood of good stock and brood, mannered, trained and taught by the courts, a captain even. Yet Lan didn't seem to care. Her mind was on another stallion. One who she really knew hardly an iota about yet found to be farm warmer and strangely softer than the soldier who was before her, pouring her a cup of tea. His hands were slim. The hands of a bow user. The hands of someone who killed from afar, never up close. Not... personal. Lan sighed openly, and he paused. "Is something the matter my lady?"
"You presume far too much." Was her reply.
"I am not your lady, not yet." She explain. He grinned, thinking whatever it was men like him thought.
"Yet." He set the teapot down, and she noted how measured he was, how controlled and utterly detached he was.
"Are you always like this around pretty mares?" She asked, feeling particularly over this whole debacle.
"Only the ones I like."
Her lips twitched. "Good." His brow fell, confusion evident, quickly masked with a charming smile.
"Pardon."
"It'll let all the pretty mares you fancy know that you do not trust them enough to see you as you are, but only as a mask." He froze at that and without a word, bowed, and excused himself. Lan just looked down at the tea poured and sighed again.
Maybe thats why she liked him. He had nothing to hide, he was never anything but himself around her. He was... himself. And so she'd grown to like him, even if his hands were far in comparison to her own.

Joy

Her flowers had returned. After nearly a year, the green had come back around vibrant and full of color and life. She could have danced for the fact not only were they growing but they were thriving. Shoots were standing tall, and some flowers had even bloomed. Golds and greens, blues violets and reds and oranges and whites dotted her gardens. The pond of fish swam, happy to nibble at her finger tips as she sat by their pool, fingers brushing the surface of the water. It was spring again, warm again. And as she mused over the blooms. She noted that her ochids had not yet bloomed. The section she'd been planning to grow white...
She wondered how might a lavender orchid look?