[PRP] Roses and Lilies (Laureat and Lothorien)

[Cajmera]

 

[Cajmera]

It had been a depressing week, Laureat had to acknowledge. For a stallion who rarely felt any sort of negative emotion, that depression had been a harsh reminder of how unpleasant life could be, if it was allowed to get to a person. Laureat had been unprepared for the shock of it all; seeing one of his favorite wild bowers reduced to ash and char by the whims of a fire had been almost more than his spirit, worshipful of beauty, could handle. He had been fortunate to find another mourner there, whose conversation and company had helped dull the sensation of loss, but for a full week afterwards Laureat had been haunted by nightmares of flowers alight with flame, shriveling and curling into ashes.

This morning, though, he had resolved that he was not going to just sit back and wallow in depression. That bower was gone, but it could come back. And there were other places in the woods where the flames hadn't reached; places such as his own garden, where he lived and tended in what had always been happy contentment. It had started as five black roses bushes, but now the garden contained rosebushes of every color, lilies, ivy, clover, primroses, star flowers, and just about every sort of flower one could imagine. He'd even managed to get ivy to grow, training it up into some of the surrounding trees.

And he'd done this himself, planting and transplanting samples he'd collected from various parts of the forest. He took great pride in his skills as a gardener, and in the beauty of his garden. But it was the work of a Soquili, and there was nothing quite as simple, elegant, and beautiful as the work of Nature.

There was one thing that was bound to lift his spirits, he knew; he would just have to go find another flower patch. So that morning, he had looped his carrying basket around his neck, tossed in a couple apples, and started off through the trees.

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

Things had settled down some since the great fire. Lothorien had been highly concerned that his chosen land would go up in flames, but he was grateful that the rains came before the threat crossed over into the woods. Ah, but the edge of his woods had spilled into the plains, and he had been close enough to see the glowing red blaze eat its way closer and closer. His woods still smelled of smoke and ash, but the threat had been taken care of. . . for now. The drought still lingered, despite the late summer deluge, and now, Lothorien had another fear to sit upon his shoulders.

The summer and autumn storms were long from over. Another fire could sprout anywhere, and his own woods were still suffering from the lack of rain. The streams which were often full of life giving water, were far from healthy. Additionally, while he fought hard to keep his lands green, rich with life, and well cared for, new wildlife had sought its refuge. Some of those displaced from the fires had moved into the foothills, and he found his gardens, his plants, rather overwrought with new guests. Oh, Lothorien tried to accommodate all that he could, and in a sense, he had no choice. . . but he sincerely worried that his own lands would suffer all the more for it!

Ah, but the stallion had been caretaker of this particular woodland and grove for many years. Since he'd been a young colt, he'd stolen away and found his sanctuary in nature. He'd always been drawn to the earth and the bounty of flowers and plants that it so freely offered; the smaller animals that shared in those gardens were not so intimidating as to cause Lothorien much trouble, and he did what he could to provide a sanctuary for all of them. It was his lifes joy, for all that it might seem mundane and dull compared to more adventurous hearts.

Unfortunately, Lothorien had never had much of an adventurous heart. With the separation of his brother and father, and having no herd to call his own, Loth had stepped up at a young age to be the little, watchful guardian of his mother and sister. Goodness knew his sister needed the watchful eye! She was sweet, but terribly clumsy, and had needed someone to make sure she kept out of trouble. That had always been Lothorien's duty. . . to watch over and protect. . . to be the unassuming, unnoticed guardian. He liked it. Let his sister steal the show, he was more than happy to stay out of the limelight, preferred to let others shine.

But with time and age, his sister and mother had gone their separate ways. It had left Lothorien without purpose, but he had settled into a small territory, and had simply changed his lifestyle to keeping watch over the land, instead of his sister or mother. It suited him. He did not have to be social, did not have to be overwhelmed by the demands many more extroverted hearts. No, he could quietly live in peace, and while many might find his guardianship of the small, simple woodlands boring. . . Lothorien enjoyed it.

Even with all the additional concerns -- of drought, of the refugees settling in somewhat uninvited, of the ability to care for his lands as he ought -- the stallion carried on as its steward.

Today was no exception. Picking his way through the woods, Lothorien fussed over the trees and plants he passed. His poor forest -- it once had been supremely lush and well tended; and while it was far greener than the plains, he could tell instantly what was lacking. Ah well. "Getting a little overrun with weeds, are we?" He spoke to a small flowerbed of tended daffodils. "Sorry about that," he apologized to the plants, little caring who might over hear him. He was often alone, and no, he had no shame talking to his gardens. They needed encouragement too, after all. Just because a plant didn't have eyes or a mouth to speak, did not mean they were not alive.

Besides, more often than not, nobody was around to hear him.

Today should have been no different. So it was, he leaned down, and began the task of pulling weeds.
 

[Cajmera]

Laureat had always thought of himself as a disorganized perfectionist. He loved for things to be in a certain way, but how they got and stayed that way, he didn’t care. Whatever was striking, exotic, and beautiful brought joy to his soul, but whether it attained that beauty in ordered rows or haphazard arrangements, he didn’t care. His own garden was a a study in his philosophy; the roses, for the most part, grew on uniform shrubs, in uniform rows, and were tended with solemn regularity. However, he had taken some of the less ‘perfect’ plants and moved them to another area where he had let them take over; as a result, the garden boasted a second bower of roses which grew in thick clumps, tangling amidt each other, cross-pollinating at will. The result was an intoxicating aroma, and a plethora of roses of mixed colors, random sizes, and irregularity. Yet in their chaos, Laureat saw beauty; the regular, ‘perfect’ rosebushes serving as a source for his family’s personal ornaments, and the random rose garden a place to lie back and enjoy for its own sake.

He had never wanted to live anywhere other than the woods. He knew that there were other Soquili, including some of his own siblings, who found it a gloomy, oppressive place. It was certainly true that a wind Soquili such as himself had far fewer opportunities to stretch his wings and fly than he would if he were, say, in the plains regions. But flight had never been too important to Laureat; while the view from the skies could be breathtaking, there was a depressing amount of detachment there. You could see, but that was all. On the ground, walking amidst the trees, you could smell the heady scent of freshly turned earth, or inhale the fresh scent of running water. You could rub your nose against the velvety softness of moss, or scratch your back on a handy piece of rough bark. Down on the ground, and particularly in the forest, beauty wasn’t just something you saw; it was something you experienced . It was tangible, touchable, taste-able.

Laureat had never felt afraid in the woods, not even as a foal. He found the trees comforting, each one with their own lifetime of stories to tell of what they had seen and experienced. Around each trunk, there was the possibility of new discovery; of stumbling into a previously unknown pond, into a strand of wildflowers, into a tangle of berry bushes. Like most homebound Soquili, Laureat had his region he knew like the back of his hoof, but he also loved to range afield, finding new specimens for his garden and new wild haunts to adopt in his heart.

It had been several hours since he’d left home, and he was firmly in ‘unknown territory’ now. The woods here were still beautiful, but there were subtle changes from what he knew in his region. Less moss, for one thing. There must be fewer natural springs here, or fewer rivers. He was all too aware of the lack of rain this year, but fortunately there were enough water sources back home that he had been able to keep his gardens in top form. Here, things were a little more…

“Reserved, I would say. You are still lovely, but I would call you reserved.” His voice was lyrical, lilting, and almost musical in its cadences as he lovingly stroked a tree trunk with one wing. It was the sort of voice which lended itself naturally to song, which complemented Laureat’s own personality and sentiments perfectly. Running his wing along the tree trunk, he rounded the tree, then began to deftly weave among the trunks of the surrounding trees, first humming, then singing as he moved along:

“Gentle woodlands, why do you sigh? Think you we fear you, mistrust you, dislike you? Gentle woodlands, you’ve no fear from me. I, who adore you, salute you, and love you. Gentle woodlands, remember your pride. We who dwell within you shall always defend you.”

Finishing his little ditty, he spun around one last tree, touching his nose gently against the bark. This was a nice enough part of the forest, even if it was reserved. The only thing missing was…

“Aha, flowers!” Because at that moment, he caught sight of the tell-tale yellow gleam through the trees ahead. “Dandelions, dahlias, of daffodils? What do we have out here?” Smiling, he pulled away from the trees and trotted up to get a better look.

Uta

 

[Uta]

Lothorien had been far too intent on cleaning up the bed of sun-kissed daffodils to hear the approach of the other. He was humming quietly to himself as he worked, singing to the flowers, encouraging them to bloom and grow despite the rough weather. The rain would come again soon, and his poor, once-lush lands would bloom anew. So it was, he only heard the sound of a hoof-fall when he had a mouth full of weeds.

Jerking his head up from where he was pruning, the stallion was surprised to find himself not at all alone. In fact, there was a stallion with the most fantastically colored coat he had ever witnessed! Lothoriens own family came with more earthy shades, browns, creams, blacks, with only hints of gold and orange. But this stranger. . . well. . . He was like a living rose! Blacks, silver, violets and reds of the deepest shades. This was certainly not someone Lothorien knew, nor someone seemingly local . . . A stranger then, perhaps, passing through? Another refugee? He hoped not. . . and almost doubted it. Laureat looked too clean, not at all coated in soot, nor did he look particularly troubled or traumatized.

Ah, but where were his manners? He probably looked quite the fool, startled with a mouthful of earth.

Giving a slightly flustered puff of his wings, the stallion quickly set aside his mouthful of weeds and dead leaves. "Forgive me," he quietly spoke with a small, shy but amicable, smile. "I was unaware we had a guest." We, of course, being Lothorien and the flowers. Some said he didn't get out enough, but as far as the stallion was concerned, hew as just fine. He was quite content living a quiet life, and was entertained well enough by strangers that passed through his lands. "Be welcome, all the same."

Cajmera

 

[Cajmera]

It was inevitable: ask a question, even of an inanimate object, and you might get an answer. Granted, in this case the answer had not come from what Laureat had greeted, but it was still a well-timed response. It wouldn't take long for Laureat to laugh at how absurd his response had been, but at the time his surprise was very real. One minute, he'd been ambling through the trees, enjoying the peace of the moment and curious to inspect the yellow flowers, the next he was practically jumping out of his skin as a soft, low-to-the-ground voice came out of no where.

Still, he might be surprised, but he'd never been one to over-agonize over the little things.

"Oh! Hi! Hello!" He managed to recover from his surprise quickly enough to prevent falling over an exposed tree root, and even managed to (almost) make it look like he'd intended that little stumble. At the same time, he fanned his wings, the extra lift allowing him to right himself and resume his casual amble. "I would say you're excused the oversight, since I hadn't realized I was about to become a guest. Please, don't put yourself out on my part."

He was close enough to have determined now that the flowers were daffodils, and the speaker was NOT the daffodils, but a slight stallion whose warm brown color matched newly-turned earth and had the most exotic wings he'd ever seen. Judging by his posture and the small pile of plant detritus, he'd been in the process of tidying up; of all the happy occurrences! It had been far too long since Laureat had encountered any other gardeners, and he was delighted to have this opportunity. With no care for whether or not he was being awkward, Laureat promptly dropped down into a crouch by the stallion, gently nosing at the daffodils as he asked, "Is this purely natural growth, or have you had to irrigate the area? I know I've had trouble with daffodils aborting if it's too dry, and this spring hasn't been liquid, at least in my part of the woods. But these are gorgeous!"

As he spoke, he gave the other stallion a wide, beaming smile; it was so nice to not only have a new garden to enjoy, but someone to talk shop with!

Uta

 

[Uta]

If Lothorien was pleased that company had stumbled over to his side of the woods, he was all but ecstatic when the stranger began talking flowers! It wasn't often that the brown coated stallion had guests, much less guests that took any great interest in his local flora. Most found it convenient to sleep upon, or nibble, or perhaps admire its appearance, but Laureat's sudden talk of daffodils was a rarity! His mother and sister had always supported his love of the woods, plants, and gardens. . . but they had never taken an active interest. Truly, the spirits were smiling down on him today, for this was a real treat.

Lothorien couldn't hide his smile, and gave a happy swish of his tail, moving over so there was room for them both. "It has been an incredibly dry year, but miracle of miracles, these darlings managed to bloom. The lack of rain has forced me to irrigate, though I'm afraid I've had to pick and choose my battles. The usual lushness of these woods is severely lacking, and I've lost many plants to uncooperative weather patterns." There was sincere regret in his words, staring down at the lovely blooms. Lothorien loved his little spot of land, and he'd worked hard to try to keep it alive and thriving despite the drought. He wasn't in the heart of the Kawani, but if they didn't get a good, wet winter, he worried about the following spring. "I know we all seem to be struggling this year, but I think this area's lucked out. Are your woods far from these parts?" He'd be curious to know where the stranger hailed from, and how far he might have roamed. There were many whom had been displaced by the drought and plains fire, but the way the stallion spoke made it sound as if his lands may have been spared.

Lothorien had been close enough -- and doubly worried that the fire would have spread. While that had not been the case, the threat was still high and all it would take was a rogue crack of lightning. Even the rain, regardless how much it was needed, could be a threat; if they got too much too quickly, flooding and mudslides were a true possibility, especially to those in the mountains and hills. Oh, but where was an Angeni of Weather or at least an Angeni of Rain? Probably overworked somewhere. . .

Cajmera

And, I know absolutely nothing about gardening so please forgive me if I make some major mistake. xD Watch Uta gloss over things, or Google answers, lawl. <3

 

[Cajmera]

Laureat's parents had learned very early on that it never took much to cheer him up. Unlike his twin sister, Laureat tended to have a very sunny, almost crazily positive, outlook on life; things that would bother or unnerve other Soquili tended to wash over him like water off a duck. But even the super enthusiastic Soquili out there were sometimes subject to foul moods, and like good parents, Guilian and Luca had made sure to learn what made their son tick. Very quickly, they had learned that Laureat could be cheered by exposure to pretty things, particularly plants, and by positive, friendly conversation. Combining the two together was frequently a winning combination; Laureat had been known to joke that he never would have become such a flower zealot if it wasn't for his family always bringing up the subject!

When he had started out on this little jaunt through the forest, he had had no definite purpose in mind; just a basket to collect anything unexpectedly pretty (and to carry his apples!). He had set off in an arbitrary direction, hoping to find another flower patch to take his mind off of the horror of the fire. He might not be a foal any longer, but he was still easily cheered by pretty plants!

Though he had obviously struck gold (no daffodil pun intended) with this direction, he thought as he settled himself into the soft ground. He'd encountered numerous other Soquili who had an aesthetic appreciation for flowers; they thought they were pretty, they thought they smelled good; some Soquili even thought they tasted good! But almost universally, they knew nothing about the flowers themselves; their lives, their care, their cultivation. Laureat had never begrudged anyone their ignorance on the subject, but since flowers were his life's passion, it could sometimes make conversation a little...well, stilted.

Finding this stallion had to have been preordained; not only a gorgeous little patch of flowers to admire, but a fellow gardener to swap stories and share expertise with. It was all he could do to keep from capering around in a happy little circle, he was so happy...but capering was a pale second when it came to conversation! As the stallion explained how he'd kept his garden vibrant in the face of the year's challenges, Laureat nodded in complete sympathy. "Yes, the drought had been horrible for the region, completely independent of the fire. Though the less said about the fire, the better," he added with a shudder, the charred, ashen ruins of his ivy bower still too fresh in his mind for him to think about without pain.

"But I've been lucky. I live several hours' walk away from here, farther into the woods and quite a bit lower. We have a very large spring-fed pond there, which didn't seem to be affected by the drought. It's taken a lot more work, hauling water being what it is, but I've been able to keep my garden in wonderful condition. I just wish it were possible to do more for the trees themselves," Laureat said as he looked around them at the tree trunks. They seemed straight and strong, but who knew what they might look like under the bark?

Shaking his head, Laureat gave the brown stallion a sympathetic look. "Do you have anyone helping you, or are you also a lone gardener? My family tries to help me once in a while, but they really don't know what they're doing," he added with a cheery chuckle. "So, it's really just me at my patch."

Uta

No worries, the rp is the important part, not the gardening XD

 

[Uta]

Lothorien made a mental note to curb conversation away from that of the fire. He did not wish to distress his guest, and ultimately, it made for unpleasant conversation. There had been stresses enough without the fire – the kalona war, the drought, the fire, the displaced Kawani, the refugees still searching for relief. Though the fire had finally been contained and eventually put out, it hadn’t been easy, and the drought had still not broken. It would take time to truly curb it, and if the rains came in one fell swoop, flooding could be their next concern. Ah, but for once, talk of the weather was not an ideal conversation starter. Perhaps it would be for the best. To be so alone in his small grove, the black haired stallion already let his thoughts roam too long on such tender subjects. . . . Today he could spare thoughts for happier tidings, and new friends . . .or at least acquaintances.

“I’m glad to hear that your pond is keeping things moist in the lowlands. I have been so busy tending my own grove that I haven’t had time to spread the wings and step away to see how the neighboring flora has fared. I’m pleased that there’s at least one patch that’s still green, and I’ve hope the rains will come well and truly to refresh the parched lands.” It wasn’t always easy to believe, especially when he saw his own lands struggling, or heard stories from those passing through about their dried up waters and brown and brittle plant remains, but Loth had to have hope. Without it, his sensitive heart would surely despair. “It would be a most welcome sight indeed.”

“As for the trees, I do hope they’ll manage well enough. Some of their roots go deep,” he added, glancing up at the woodlands canopy surrounding them. “And I’ve hope they all can get through this difficult time, as they have in prior drought. The biggest hurtle I’ve found hasn’t even been the lack of reliable water, but the beetles hoping to feast on their dry bark. So far my lot seems safe, but I’ve heard rumors they’re slowly making their way north. I’m all for live and let live, but those colonies make me nervous, and I know what they ultimately do to the tree.” He couldn’t help but be protective. Perhaps it was odd, but he could not help but wish to defend the vegetation of the earth. Animals like him took for granted what the quiet greenery offered the world—from trees, to grasses, to plants, and fruits and vegetables. Too many thought little of what they trampled on, or what they destroyed.. While he did not begrudge the beetles their preferred habitat, he did rather hate that it left a very dead tree.

“Ah, then we are of kindred spirits, indeed. It is just me and my small grove, with an occasional guest passing through, or a visiting family member. My mother and sister live further in the mountains, and my father and brother have been long since dispersed.” The last time he saw his brother had been not long after his birth, and their memories foggy, distant. He knew little of them, but that was just as well; to each their own, of course. “I grew up not far from here, and took comfort in the woods and the hills. I’m allowed to tend it to my whims, and get few enough guests that it makes for a comfortable living.” Perhaps not the most social, but Lothorien had always been a bit of a shy sort. While he knew how to fight and defend, he much preferred the role of a pacifist and peacemaker. With how excitable his sister was, it was no wonder he enjoyed the serenity and quiet of his grove. Giving a small snort and an amused smile, he added, "Even if I saw them regularly, I think it’s fair to say I’m the only green hoof in the family.”

The stallion gave a small ruffle of his feathers, before realizing his poor manners! Here he was, chattering on and he hadn't even offered a name! "Er, forgive me. I've been so long without company that I'm afraid I've lost all semblance of manners. If I start the formal introduction, might I, perchance, get your name?" He smiled at the other, trying to not feel too foolish for all his rambling. "I'm Lothorien and . . if there's anything I can get you -- food, water, a patch of land to rest from your travels -- by all means, please don't hesitate to ask."

Cajmera

I don't think they swapped names yet. < < Let me know if I missed it thoug.

 

[Cajmera]

Comfortably settled in among the soft moss, Laureat listened to the other stallion’s explanations sympathetic nods, clucks, and other suitable gestures. Sometimes one felt the need to jump right into a conversation, but other times, there was a greater need for listening. Lothorien was less boisterous than Laureat himself; it had only taken minutes for the red stallion to make that determination. But quieter as he was, there was no mistaking his true connection to the forest in general, and his little patch in particular. As Laureat had already explained, the summer drought had meant a lot of extra work for Laureat himself, but he had still been able to get out and explore. How would he have handled the summer if he had been as confined as Lothorien? He loved his garden; that went without saying. But he also loved seeing what else was out there, finding new bowers, new gardens. His own garden was filled with transplants, souvenirs he’d found and brought back along the way. What would he have done if he’d had to chose between keeping his garden lush and saving specimens from elsewhere in the woods?

Fortunately, he hadn't had to choose. Perhaps it was a little unfair that he had the freedom that others didn't, but he wasn't going to question that luck. Besides, if the stallion couldn't go out to the world, then at least Laureat was here to bring a small piece of the world to him! “Well, it looks like your efforts have paid off, if this place is any indication. Your daffys are lovely,” Laureat said, leaning in and giving one a deep sniff. “Your dedication to this place is obvious; I mean, I know I have a bit of insider info when it comes to flowers,” he said with a smile, “But any floral philistine would be able to see the love that went into their care.”

At the mention of the wood beetles, the smile gave way to a cringing frown, and Laureat gave a quick shake of his head. “Gads, those beetles are the worst! Really, hasn’t the forest suffered enough this year without the bugs deciding to get in on the act? It’s like they’re all conspiring to turn the world into one giant grass land,” Laureat said with a snort. Not that he had anything against grass on principal, but it was so…banal. Meadow flowers could be lovely, but there was no surprise, no suspense, when you were walking around in a meadow. Nothing at all like prowling through the forest, where you had no idea what was waiting for you past the next clump of trees.

“We’ll just have to hold out hope that the beetles are too turned off by the cold weather, at least for now. And in the meantime, we’ll enjoy the beauty of the woods as it is! It’s our sworn duty as nurturers, I think, to love what we love in every situation,” Laureat finished with a grin as he offered a wing to the other stallion in his family’s time-honored method of greeting. “And if you’re lacking in manners, then I’m worse; I’m the one who came traipsing in without so much as a by-your-leave, only to start shooting my mouth off. If you’re rambling, then I’d hate to think of what it is I’m doing; I always seem to start talking with no end in sight,” he added with an unashamed chuckle. “It’s great to meet you, Lothorien; I’m Laureat. And thanks a lot for your hospitality; I’ll take you up on a quick drink of water, but no worries on the food.” With a slight ‘thump’, he slid his basket down to the ground, tilting it towards Lothorien so he could see the apples inside. “Having gotten lost a couple times in the past, I make a point of bringing some food along with me. Would you like an apple or two? They’re a little soft, I admit, but still very sweet and moist.”

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

The black maned stallion couldn’t help but be pleased by his current spot of companionship. While he had never been the most outgoing, and tended to be on the more aloof side of things, Lothorien still could appreciate good company when it was offered! With his mother off with her mate, and his sister grown and living her own life, Lothorien found that the majority of his life was devoted to his little grove and its plants. He loved having time to keep up his home and the patch of woods he had devoted himself to caring for and guarding, but plants weren’t always the best conversationalists. Sometimes, one needed a little more than the bobbing of fern leaves in the wind, or the song of rain through the treetops. Thankfully, Laureat was bringing some long-needed sunshine! It was a refreshing change, really, and Lothorien couldn’t be more pleased by the spirits choice of surprise companion. “Ah, you’re far too generous with the compliments,” he laughed, ducking his head in a moment’s bashfulness. “Still, I thank you all the same. There’s still much work to be done, particularly if we don’t get any rain, or worse, get too much too soon, but it’s certainly a labor of love.”

Lothorien was not accustomed to the extended wing greeting, but after a moment’s surprise, he gave an attempted return of gesture. His mother had wings similar to his own, but his sister and brother had wings of the most extravagant nature. They were the mutant wings of his father, and a most peculiar sort; a type that had left him jealous as a foal of the attention they inherited, but glad of it as an adult. His sister seemed to enjoy attention far more than Lothorien, and he was glad that he was relatively bland in comparison. “Well, it’s a great pleasure to meet you, Laureat, and I’m quite glad you stumbled into my neck of the woods.” It didn’t take Loth more than a moment to brush off some of the dirt upon his coat, and step away from the daffodils where they were lingering. The good sir wished for water, which certainly could be in short supply! “The apples look lovely, but I’m quite content at the moment, thank you,” he politely declined, giving a small smile at the other. “As for water, I know just the place. It’s not far, if you don’t mind a little walk further in.” He doubted the stallion would object, and was doubly pleased it meant he might get to show off a little more of his home.

Loth didn’t mind that the red and purple stallion was a talker. He was pleasant to listen to, and so far seemed congenial and charming. He was good company, really, and the alicorn was only too happy to listen. “Ah, but I do not mind listening. It’s good to hear the stories and insight of others, and is a nice change from the usual quiet of the woods. I’m glad I’ve met someone who is happy to carry the conversation, as I’m somewhat lackluster at it myself.” It wasn’t meant to be a tear down, simply the truth. “This is the most conversing I’ve done in months,” he admitted with a sheepish grin, guiding the other away from the plants, and towards their next destination.
 

[Cajmera]

Laureat would be the first to admit he was...well, enthusiastic in his views and opinions, but he would be equally quick to deny he was over the top in his compliments. After all, he was a very honest Soquili; he always told the truth as he saw it. And since compliments were a matter of opinion, and he was therefore giving his honest opinion, it was clear that his compliments were exactly as generous as they needed to be. "We'll have to agree to disagree on that one, Lothorien, because I think this place is worthy of a million more compliments besides. You really have done a great job here; I mean it," Laureat finished with an emphatic nod of his head. This kind of dedication was special; it was worth commending. "Hopefully the weather cooperates; I'd say after the way the earlier part of the year has gone, we're all due for a break."

After Lothorien's demurral, Laureat shrugged and chomped into one of the apples himself. Inside, it was a little mealy, but there was still enough juice to make the whole thing sweet and delicious. Considering the time of year, he was satisfied with any little bit of summer he could still taste! But he didn't linger; it was pretty rude to sit there eating when his companion wasn't. "Well, if you change your mind, they'll still be available," he said as he scooped his basket back over his head and bounced to his feet. "But water sounds great, as does the walk. Lead the way!"

Following after the other stallion as they made their way along, Laureat remained bouncy and ebullient. "Well, I'm sure that you'd talk up a storm in the right circumstances. I mean, it might be in your mind, but I bet the thoughts come fast and furious! We gardeners spend a lot of time alone, so our choices are either talking to ourselves aloud or talking to ourselves in our heads. Either way, it tends to be a bit one-sided, wouldn't you say?" Chuckling, he ducked under a low-hanging tree branch as he followed after Lothorien. "Then again, I could just be rambling. In case you couldn't tell, I'm the type who talks aloud to myself when there's no one else around."

That was a bit of an understatement; Laureat was the sort who was almost always vocalizing, whether it was talking, singing, humming, or what have you. Less charitable types might say he liked to hear the sound of his own voice; Laureat would probably laugh and agree with them. Was it his fault he had such a pleasant voice? It sure beat spending all of his days in silence...if he was even capable of doing such a thing. Being silent was easier said than done!

"If it helps at all, I think you're doing great on this conversation! I mean, yeah, I'm doing a lot of talking, but I'd do that anyway. You're contributing, adding insightful comments, offering polite remarks...in general, good job!"

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

It had been a long time since he'd had company, much less of the exuberant kind. If Lothorien's sister hadn't been as outgoing and chattery as she had been, it was very possible the alicorn might have found himself overwhelmed. His sister had always been a chattery sort, though she had a warmth and kindness about her that was difficult o find; it was why Lothorien had grown up reserved and quiet. Someone in the family had had to listen to his sisters stories, and she had far more adventures than he; while he was the listener and guardian, she had been the social, clumsy one. As it stood, the stallion found a peculiar sort of familiarity in the red-coated wind's company, and he was glad for it. There was something pleasant in the others congenial matter, a new warmth within his quiet little abode. Maybe he had simply been alone too long, but right now, Loth couldn't help but enjoy this new distraction. It reminded him of his youth, listening to his sister talk about anything and everything. It was nice.

"Ah, but truly, good sir, you are a generous sort. I'll be sorting through all your compliments for weeks now, at the rate your granting them. Though I will confess I am glad that you think so highly of my little patch of land, and am doubly pleased you're not bored to tears!" The stallion gave a small chuckle of delight, dipping his head a touch bashfully. "The flowers and trees are good company for the spirit, but sometimes a conversation with a bit more substance is needed for the heart. I'm quite pleased the spirits have led you my way, truly." Lothorien was nothing short of sincere. With how hectic things had been trying to keep his patch of land thriving, he really hadn't had much time to converse, even to himself. Laureate was more than a pleasant diversion, and he was rather enjoying the other stallions company.

It didn't take Lothorien long to guide the other deeper into his little wood. He brought him to a winding stream, which had clearly seen better days. While there was still water to be found in good supply, the banks were thick and bare, and the water level low. It would have been a decent sized stream if they hadn't been in such a drought, but it would take time for it to fully repair. "She's a bit small, but the water is clean, and there's still ample enough to go around. There's also shade to spare, if you'd like to pick a tree to rest beneath . . if you'd wish to relax some from your travels." He did want the other to feel comfortable, after all. Lothorien did enjoy playing host, infrequent as it might be.
 

[Cajmera]

"Believe me, it would be an insane notion for me to be bored around a garden," Laureat said with the utmost of sincerity. He was the happy sort of specialist who, rather than want to keep everything pertaining to his specialty to himself, took joy in sharing both the experience and the information. He might be a chatterbox, but more than conversation, more than company, he truly loved his plants. Well, anyone's plants, really! And being able to share than love and passion with someone else who shared that love and passion made his day in a big way.

But he gave the other stallion a big grin as they continued along, adding with a laugh, "I'll try to rein in the compliments, though; I don't want you to be too overwhelmed by the little things to enjoy the chance to talk shop with me, or give me a proper tour." With a self-deprecating bob of his add, Laureat added, "I'm trying to be a high demand guest. Is it working?"

As they came up on the bank of the little stream, Laureat looked down at the sad but determined stretch of water. "Well, you have to give it credit for tenacity; I've seen a lot of water sources completely dried out in the course of my wanderings, and a few so clogged with ash that they look overrun by undead beavers. I heartily approve of your little stream." With an approving nod, Laureat slipped right down the bank into the water, grinning at the cool sensation on his ankles. A quick taste confirmed his approval; "Nicely crisp and clear!" And it definitely hit the spot after all the walking he'd been doing, Laureat thought with a smile. Really, there was nothing quite like a little bite and a little drink to bring some refreshment into an afternoon.

That, and a little bit of company! Looking over at the other stallion, Laureat offered a cheery wave of one wing. "Are you thirsty yourself?"

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

Lothorien was ever so pleased that the spirits had granted him such a delightful visitor! The red coated wind had certainly brought some vivacity into his neck of the woods. It was a great pleasuring having someone to host -- particularly someone who seemed as passionate about plants and gardening as himself. Truly this was a blessing from the gods above, and Lothorien was glad of it.

When the stallion confessed he was hoping to be of high demand, Lothorien's grin broadened, even if his nose flushed with a bit of color. He wasn't entirely sure why he liked the thought of the other wanting to be in high demand by him, but it was a very kind compliment indeed. "Oh, I assure you. . . Your company has been nothing but pleasant, and I hope you might find reason to linger." . . . . did that sound forward? or . . . strange? "I don't get many guests, particularly of the garden variety. You have been quite the refreshing change," he added, not wishing to put off the stranger so soon.

A new friend would be a delight. Even if the stranger was passing through quickly, he would have a good memory of a nice afternoon playing host to a congenial wind. So, he would simply have to make the best of it A diversion from his plants, and the effects of the drought, was something the reserved stallion was in desperate need of, and he wouldn't so quickly take Laureat's presence for granted.

Lothorien felt great relief when the stranger seemed to find approval in the stream of water. It was a strange thing for him to care what the other thought, but he did. Most likely, really, because Lothorien did often worry about what others might think of his garden and his home - - he tended it to the best of his ability, and while most strangers thought nothing of the plants they trod upon, Laureat was a real gardener and a kindred spirit. Somehow, he knew, if he let him down or didn't impress him with his fare, it would be a double let-down. Thankfully, though, he didn't have to worry, at least right now. "It's been reliable through the worst of the drought, which I'm ever grateful for," he explained. Giving his colorful wings a stretch, the alicorn decided to join his companion for a drink. "I am a bit parched from the mornings work, as well as such amicable conversation. I don't think I've had someone to talk to in weeks, so I'm afraid my tongue is getting a bit of a workout." Stepping into the cool stream, Loth almost regretted the waters low level -- he suddenly felt dusty, dirty, and his feathers could use a good bath.

Ah well.

Perhaps after his guest had left, or retired for the night.

Lowering his head, he quietly thanked the river, before taking a long, much needed drink. There. Much, much better. It also gave him a moment to collect his thoughts, to think on what might next be in store.