Searching for a needle in a haystack

He had sensed the approach of the other girl, so graceful and confident in contrast to the blue babe. Yet he did not entirely expect her to discover her and actually approach her. He could sense the disdain, the air of superiority gleaming off of her, and the Tree was not impressed. So young and so ignorant; she would not last long in this treacherous land with such an attitude. As his branches continued to creak with his movements, he finally came to a halt before them, staring down with an aura of inquisitiveness radiating off his being. There was not face on him, no eyes to convey his emotion; but he could still express what he felt with simply just his presence.

So when the blue child looked to the overconfident one, he immediately sent a sense of warmth and tenderness out to her; to ease her concern and mental plea for assistance. There was no danger here, not with him present. Even though he was sick and dying; he still held an immense amount of intangible, raw power. But he was still not content with the pale one, who seemed to hold something in her that amounted to nothing good. She had a motive that he did not agree with, and because of his he decided that distance needed to be kept. Without warning a leafy branch reached out, and with the utmost tenderness he could muster he lifted her off the ground; before moving her quite a ways away from them.

To Eira's eye, he had made her entirely disappear, when in reality had the forest not been there they were still within seeing distance. When he had released his grasp on Valkyrie, he returned his expression back to the girl, and simply breathed his life into the trees around them. And in doing so there was a sense of peace, a sense of understanding and warmth that not only showered the wilting vegetation; but to the little girl. She needed to understand what he needed of her, and there was no way to do it except like this. When he felt secure that she did in fact know what must come next, he began to move his old body down to the ground.

The movements were slow and precise, a touch of carefulness that lead to his hulking form to finally lay horizontally on the wet earth. When he was finally settled, his branches reached out to her ever so tenderly. When they touched her face they were gentle, soft and delicate with their movements. As his energy began to shift he focused on continuing to give her that sense of ease. When she was ready; he would let go, and although his chapter would ultimately end; hers would finally begin.

the Rift

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