The week which followed her arrival to the colorful forest was filled with some adventure, and much lazing about beside her small fires. Too afraid to make them very large, and only letting them burn at night or during the early, very cold mornings, she carefully put them out with snow, or stamped upon them with her hooves, when new snow had not fallen, and the snow that was already there had been chilled into a rock-like state by the perpetual freeze of the unnatural season.
It was uneventful, to say the least. That is, until the fern fiasco.
She was not sure why she decided to taste it, especially now in retrospect, when she wished she had simply lit it ablaze. But, taste it she had, and the consequences had been immediate and dire.
All around her the forest seemed to come to life; it rustled and wheezed, it groaned and creaked. With terribly raspy, insect like voices, it chattered at her, and called her fat and cruel. She, of course, had argued that it was only right for unicorns to eat plants; the plants, in turn, had accused her of being heartless, and proceeded to smack and grab at her wherever she went. This had gone on for several hours, until, at last, she had plead with them to stop.
It was then they had told her she would have to give them recompense. Whoever they were, Gwyn did not know, but they sure were on her hit list, especially considering that she now had some sort of seed germinating (how gross of a word was that?) in her belly. As if the stomach cramps weren’t enough, the forest would not shut up about her collecting some other strange things, for when the seed had “germed,” as Gwyn had termed it.
So, she was doing her best to oblige, all while getting out of the whispering forest as soon as she could, but it was hard to focus on finding glowing rocks or “gem fairies” when all the trees were calling you names. All Gwyn could think about was getting out of the terrible forest, and out somewhere there weren’t trees.
It’s here, idiot, the forest of ferns whispers, not there. Further still you go, lost and foolish...
Where are you going, orphan? croons the next one; the branches of its neighbor dance as she passes, reaching out, you haven’t repaid us yet. So selfish…
[ Trial Blurb:
The trees are looming, watching, as you pass beneath their ancient boughs. They chatter to each other, a message of whispering leaves that you can't quite make out, louder and louder in the rising wind. Are they talking about you? Somebody else? It's definitely you - you can make out the snippets of words, and the things they say are not complimentary. In fact, it sounds like all the plants are discussing your flaws and shortcomings.
We shall be fighting gem fairies in this thread. RIP Gwyn. xD All are welcome <3 ]
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Solanis
