In search of... (part 2)

[bitterguardian]

After years of living in his subterranean home around the vault, Horvath is unused to being woken by sunlight. To fall asleep comfortably sunk deep in a plush chair is familiar, but the chair is not his own, and to wake with a cat sleeping on him, and another running around playing is familiar, but these are not his cats and there are more than two. Also he rarely has the foresight to pull a blanket over himself. To feel so much at home in a place that is not his home comes as a strange surprise.

Last night before he dozed off in the chair, however, he had a great deal of food and alcohol, and his body would urgently like to remind him of that fact. He's grateful for the new set of crutches in easy reach, and he hauls himself up on them and swings along off to the bathroom, letting the cats scatter in his wake.

Once he's tended to the basics, and ascertained that while he is hung over, it's not a bad one, he notices the note from his host conveniently stabbed through on a prong of the antlers around the bathroom mirror. She had some foresight, indeed.

Bonjour Max! I hope that your sleep was a deep, healing one and that you woke to a better day! I had an errand to run early this morn, and might not make it back in time to be there when you wake. So! There is food, coffee, tea - and I shall return with fresh eggs for breakfast if you sleep so long.
Mara

The towels from yesterday have been replaced with clean ones, his clothes are washed and mended on the bed, and there's the salve still waiting back on the footstool beside the chair in which he slept. Thanks to the ambient light of day waking him, it's not late by any means, so he takes time to wash, to put salve and a bandage over the blistered stump of his leg, and to dress in his own clothes once more. When he emerges to investigate the kitchen, Horvath feels more like himself than he has since his encounter with Shub niggurath sent him questing. Pantleg folded up and tucked neatly (a trick he learned back in the army hospital when he was first learning to adapt to the amputation), moving faster on the new crutches than he can with a cane, he murmurs to the cats, and seeks out a cup of tea to help drive away the vestiges of a headache that's not strong enough to dampen a good mood.

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[bitterguardian]

She may not be able to reach the top of his head, but when her hair tumbles down, he reaches up a long arm to try to tweak a lock of it gently, grinning right back up at her. Looking up like that, he does have to shift on his feet a little, bracing himself for balance, but it's worth it for her expression.

"I don't know any stories about beds..." He pauses, blushing faintly. "At least none I'd care to share." He may be slightly awkward about it, but Horvath is no virgin.

He limps to the tent just a short ways off, eyeing the makeshift mattress/ Is that a bed for just one? How she can find a tree a comfortable sleeping spot, he'll never understand. But she can call him Seeker as long as she likes. It's not a bad nickname, one that applies beyond his current hunt for aglaophotis. "And I'm not much of a singer. Let me see... a light story, perhaps? Something short and silly..." He eases down onto the bed she's made, and rolls up his pantsleg to loosen the brace for the prosthetic.

[sunandshadows]

"Ah, you do not? Well I've one or two that can be told, of long ago before my birth. A consort dark and consort bold, and his fae-queen wife who roamed the earth."

She can see him through the leaves when the breeze blows, so she remains right where she is, comfy as a cat, lying on the branch that is barely wider than she herself. Oh, later she might climb down, and curl up against his back for a little while before the dawn, but for now? Now the night is coming. And she has much frolicking and exploring and playing to do before it is time to rest.

She proceeds to recite a tale of a man and his wife, in disguise and traveling through the countryside of France in a great, comfortable carriage. They have a secret, this man and wife - they are newly wed, mortal to Fae - and are celebrating their union far away from court; both his, and hers.

The two of them stop in a small ville, and without their coachman knowing, an unscrupulous stable boy sneaks a bottle of their private stock, thinking that it is simply a bottle of his lordship's wine.

"But non, oh no Maxim. This was the rare and powerful Sidhe mead, strong enough to intoxicate the fae, strong enough to bring lust of the body, or lust of the blood. It has caused madness and inspired great works of art and music. Some cultures would call it one thing, and some another. But knowledge of how it is made is a closely guarded secret, even among the shining ones."

So the story continues. Through a series of mistakes, fumbling and deceit the bottle starts getting passed around. The most of it ends up being poured into what's left of the cask of the innkeeper's own wine, and that's when the fun starts. At the end of the tale, the lord and lady find themselves waking in a haystack in a field the next day and make their way out slowly to find the entire town in chaos and disarray. Some buildings are burning, people are in various states of dress or undress, and either hail lord and lady, or shy away, muttering of strange brews and enchantments.

"To this day, there are many families living there still, who can trace their beginnings back to that night and to the mead-enhanced vigor of his lordship's mighty staff and his lady's blessing and willing participation."

"The children's story is much different from the reality of long ago, of course. These days it speaks of how, in the midst of harvest time, an Elfen lord and his lady were found on the road after being attacked and overcome by brigands. the townsfolk took them in and aided them back to health. And in turn they blessed this town of kindly humans with" She coughs delicately "Prosperity, for their good and kindly acts. Prosperity indeed!"

[bitterguardian]

In truth he wasn't sure who was going to be the one telling a story, but he settles on the mattress, lying on his back where he's able to glimpse her through the leaves in return. Positioned as they are, she can see his face when parts of the story evoke grins and soft chuckles. As long as it's not personal, he can enjoy a dirty joke or a tale of sexual adventures as much as anyone else. "Prosperity? Fertility seems an even better term... the world should hear more stories from the fae perspective, really..." He stifles a yawn, amused.

"I should begin asking payment for things in stories, myself... but you may have to give me a few minutes to come up with a match for that tale..." He's a little worn out by the day's travel, even if it was a short day, and he's gotten comfortable in the warmth of the low fire.

[sunandshadows]

"Prosperity. Fertility is part of what makes it prosperous." Her voice is softer in the dark. "We, my father's kin, for us? Children are even to this day rare gifts, to be treasured and celebrated. In fact many of the old tales of fairies taking children" She says it with a scoffing sound to her voice "Are in truth tales of the rescue of children from those who had no business giving birth to such. Or from families riddled and dying from famine, or war, disease. It did not happen often, but there were those times."

"Although, some have been known to take a child simply to be petty and malevolent on occasion as well. Being of the shining folk makes us no better or worse in some ways than any other I think. Only different. Just - do not let others overhear me saying such."

And then she goes silent for a little while, thinking.

And before Horvath can begin speaking, she starts to sing, soft and low. Perhaps he's heard some of the words before, after all it is a variation of a classic poem. Mara's voice drifts though the trees over the crackling of the fire. Her rendition is nowhere as good as she's heard it sung in her lady's court, and there is no musical instrument to accompany her; still there is emotion there, a sorrow and a melancholy sort of yearning; and the forest seems itself to still and listen.

And then she goes silent again, the shadows all but hiding her as she lays up in the tree above him.

She gives a little sigh, then simply rolls off her high-up branch, landing on her feet with a light puff of dirt from the woodland floor. Silently the faeling skirts the firelight, coming around to where he is resting. Sitting herself at his side, she leans her head of tangled curls on his shoulder once more, seeking the quiet comfort of his companionship.

[bitterguardian]

Even laying down and lulled by the heat of the fire, there's no way he could fall asleep listening to her sing, at least this first time. He's too entranced by the song and her voice, and when she's finished there is a quiet, echoing sigh from below where he lays.

She finds him gazing up at the first stars with a quietly thoughtful expression, one arm under his head and the other flung out carelessly. When her head settles on his shoulder, that arm curls around her almost reflexively, gently protective. "So it's also true what they say, about the enchantment of faery singing." He smiles a little, tilting his chin down slightly to get a glimpse of her face. "That was beautiful..."

His gaze drifts back to the evening sky. "I've never had children... at least as far as I'm aware," There's a touch of embarrassment there, but his flings have been rare, over the years. "It's... a fatherly position, I suppose, having an apprentice, but I've always felt so awkward with it. I've made a royal muck-up of it, with a few of them. I don't think I'd do well with any of my own, but I do marvel over the... intensity of connection people seem to have with them."

[sunandshadows]

"I am honored you think such" From this close, his eyes look huge, huge and dark in the shadows cast by the firelight.

Now that she was lying down, she decides to stay a while - at least until she gets the impulse to move again. So it's time to make herself comfortable by his side. There is some shifting, and some bending of limbs, and finally she's back to nearly where she started.

"I've not had any. Not yet. I was too young at first. And then I left to walk the path of solitary knowledge in the ways of the land. Plants, the healing of such; and some few other things as well. When I returned, I was made courier to my lady, and a formal member of her court."

"And now there is interest from others in my passing on my gifts. But I love Linette and will not leave her for another, though I am the last of my bloodline. Should the time come when she and I decide that we are ready for children, I am sure we will be able to find someone we trust to father the child, someone willing to remain as part of our lives to help raise it. But it will not be for his powers alone that we would choose the father, for there are things far more important than blood."

She moves and shifts so that she is leaning partially on him and looking down at his face in the darkness, while her hair drapes down onto his chest.

"All parents make mistakes, Maxim. Some are big, and some are small. It is part of being a parent. And I am certain that with your experience, you know better than many what works and what does not."

[bitterguardian]

He gives a quiet grunt, once, when an elbow nudges him in the side, but it's not a protest. She's no worse than the cats, who routinely walk on him in the night until they find a spot that suits them just so... which occasionally means with their tail in his face, or sprawled half across his head, or climbing over him and putting their paws full weight on some sensitive spot. He does make an ideal bed though, very warm and squishy.

"It's... not a fair thing for anyone to ask of you." Horvath says slowly, thoughtful. "So often in history, women have been valued for their ability to grant heirs, rather than for their own virtues. If you want children, that's another matter entirely, and I'm sure you could find a gentleman willing and ready to join you in raising a child. There are good men in the world." The last is added with a faint smirk, because he feels it's not a given.

"I've never known who my father actually was, and the man who raised me from a babe sold me for a pittance..." There is, very very faintly, a trace of bitterness there. On the one hand he is grateful that his mother's husband didn't throw him out on the rocks to die, a bastard whose name was known only on his dying mother's lips. On the other hand, he was brought up with the constant reminders of his place, and the tragedy his birth had wrought. He's not a serious, guilt-burdened man because of Merlin's teachings, but because of lessons that go back farther in his childhood. "My master was the closest thing to a father I had... and he was kind, and taught me much of what I know, but as I grew older I came to recognize that he didn't see himself as a father to me. I... can't blame him for that. There was no reason he should have. But it came as something of a disappointment to realize that." His voice has grown slower, as he picks his words with careful thought. Discussing how he feels about things is always a very tricky matter that doesn't come easily to him. If only she knew how honored she is that he's making the effort to share that.

"Knowing what one should not do isn't always enough. I'll admit I have plenty of experience in that, from both sides. I still don't know how to do it right."

[sunandshadows]

"Were I a male, they'd still wish the bloodline to continue and my gifts not to fade. Had my brother lived, it might be different. But I was my father's only child." She shrugs, and lowers her head onto her arms, still quite content to lean across his chest for now. Mmm, warm. Comfy even.

"It is a matter of weaning the good from the bad, and then finding the right good man from those that remain. And of course, one who would be willing to share the gift of his progeny with my lover and myself. And our most unusual home." Mara adds the last sentence as an afterthought. She doesn't mind talking about it with Max, perhaps because it really hasn't hit home for her yet as anything other than just another topic of conversation between friends. As for that maternal clock ticking? Not for a while yet, not for her.

She goes silent then, the only movements are her chest rising and falling with her breath, and her eyes as they slowly close and open as he begins to discuss his childhood. Carefully, as he continues to pick and choose his words, she slides her hands up and places them under her chin, lowering her head to listen. It's not just his words, but his silences that she's taking in. Those subtle nuances in tone.

"Oh and all children come with manuals, ones that you've not read yet you mean?" The words themselves gently scoff, but the emotion behind them is warm and compassionate. "Maximus, you do what any of us do that care. You try, and you learn. And sometimes you falter, but you try again mon ami. We are not gods. We make mistakes. And our children learn from us, both the right and the wrong way to do things. Would you force a dove to be a hawk, or a pigeon to be peacock? They are, each of them different. You did - and you do - the best you can."

She kissed her forefinger, gently pressed it to his cheek. "And the world is better for it, I know."

[bitterguardian]

"You have a beautiful home..." His voice is growing softer, a little sleepy, and under her head the broad chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm. He's a little sleepy, and the warmth of her against him only helps that. He's quiet a long moment, thoughtful, but his cheek rises under her finger with a smile.

"I know there's no manual. And... I appreciate the thought. Not all my apprentices ended up hating me, I suppose..." The ones that did just tend to stand out as such grievous errors that they overshadow the more successful ones. He turns his head slightly to kiss her fingertip before it pulls away.

[sunandshadows]

She smiles. What he has seen so far is her private retreat. What would he say to the truth, that she and Linette are caretakers to a Caern in California; a wellspring of power and healing; and a house that is home to almost a half-dozen shape-shifters as well as herself? Still, the truth of it is that house - a huge caretaker's cottage - is also beautiful, though rarely peaceful.

His kiss of her finger surprises her, and she pulls her head back a few inches to look at him, then her finger, then him again. And with a grin she then places that same finger up to her own cheek as well. Her kiss to him, his kiss to her. In her mind it makes sense, so she's going to go with it.

And then with that hand she's reaching out, tugging and pulling back one of the half-folded blankets, pulling it over the two of them and putting her head back down on his chest. He's sleepy, she could use a short nap before she goes and plays.

In the night if he wakes up, she'll be gone, and there may be the faint echo of giggling in the far distance, or snatches of song. But when he wakes up on the morning? She'll be curled up and either next to him, or half on him again and fast asleep once more.

[bitterguardian]

A busy home full of shapeshifters and noise probably wouldn't suit Horvath as well. He's not a man for crowds, and values his solitude and quiet spaces to read. He might not be surprised that she is at home in a place like that as in the house that he has seen, however, since she seems to have such a duality of spirit.

The return of the kiss to her own cheek evokes a sleepy smile from him, dark eyes half-lidded and crinkling at the corners. He's all too happy to settle in with the blanket over them both, an echo of how they spent the night before on the couch, and before long her living pillow is rising and falling at a slower pace, and a slightly noisier one. Sitting up he's all right, but sleeping on his back, he does indeed snore. Once or twice he stirs, roused by her half-heard voice and a vague sense that he should be more alert when sleeping in the woods, but knowing she's nearby he's quick to doze off again.

When the light of dawn reaches him, he wakes to the weight of her head and arm across him, and lies still marveling at how comfortable that is, and listening to birdsong. For as long as he can stand to lie still there, he will, and when nature calls he moves her as gently as he possibly can, hoping to leave her curled up warm in the blankets long enough to start breakfast for them both.

[sunandshadows]

Her only reaction is a soft mewl of complaint, and a faint pout that crosses her face for a moment before it evens out in sleep once more. It was a long, fun night for her; and she's not going to wake up until the smell of breakfast cooking has her rousing her head lazily up off the sleeping pad.

Blinking widely in the brighter light she probably resembles an owl as she swivels her head from left to right, back and forth until reality kicks in.

"Mmm, délicieux! Oh Maxim!" She launches into rapid French, only to stop, back up and speak in English once more. "How did you do all of that so quickly? I only closed my eyes for a few moments! You have magic talents you've not told me of, I see this all to well now!"

She starts giggling, pushes the blankets off her with her feet. "Do you need any assistance, or should I simply break down the tent so that we may leave soon? It should be a glorious day!" And with that she's up on her feet, twirling around on the forest floor with her arms spread out and and laughing in the morning sun.

"Oui, a glorious day indeed. We have a quest to complete!"

[bitterguardian]

Horvath gives a quiet snort of amusement, and a meaningful squint at the position of the sun. He's been up for half an hour or so, after all. Sliding out from under her without waking her was the far better trick, really. He's had time to put his leg back on, stretch and fetch water for tea, and build up the fire. Breakfast is lazy, food heated rather than anything newly cooked, and that's all thanks to her.

"Just for a moment, mm?" He smirks, then breaks into a gentler smile as he watches her leap and twirl. It takes him a little while to get going, most mornings, but here she is going from unconscious to dancing in under a minute. "If you'd take down the tent, I'd appreciate it, and the tea should be ready by then. You look well rested." So does he, actually, and he feels it too. The time before when he slept in the woods, it was sitting up against a tree, and that didn't do his back or neck any favors. A tent and a bed made for a much better night.

"A quest to complete, and a Nexus visit to plan." Horvath waves a fork vaguely, and checks the food. Just because the quest is over doesn't mean goodbye, at least not in the long term.

[sunandshadows]

"Rested, and refreshed indeed!" She stops in mid-swirl, her bright eyes meeting his. Enough, no more, her arms drop to her sides as she nods. The tent, yes. And then food, and cleanup, and quest.

She doesn't really want to think of the nexus visit just yet. That is the future, and she just wants to be whole and complete, luxuriating in the present. Besides, thinking of that leads to thinking of goodbye, even short goodbyes. Nope, nope.

However, thinking, or choosing not to think, won't take the tent down any faster.

She's just finishing folding up the blankets, making nice compact rolls that will go down in the bottom of the backpacks, when she stops, changes her mind, and puts them both into one backpack. Let him keep them. They are thin, warm, and she won't need them if she is out tonight. She'll take the garbage made on their trip so that nothing is left lying around.

Scattering the leaves around, she starts setting the camp back to it's more natural state, then skips off behind the trees to deal with her own call of nature.

"Is the tea ready? My stomach growls as loud as any beast around here!"

[bitterguardian]

"In that case, you'd better have more than just tea." Amused, he offers her the first cup, and dishes out breakfast while she takes a sip. They make a good pair, with her doing the more active work and him tending the fire and the food. The camping is far more pleasant, with her help, than he expected. Of course when they do wrap up to leave he'll be making sure they erase the traces of their presence, too. No garbage, no embers, all remains of the fire well buried under dirt.

Before that, however, he settles back against a tree with his own plate and his tea, and breathes in the morning. "I've missed this, I think. I've been too long in the city, buried under the subway... I haven't noticed feeling smothered or anything, but..." He's struggling a little to put words to what he means, but her sanctuary home gave him some solace and a touch of nature that he hadn't realized he needed. "I do hope I won't miss it so much it becomes unbearable, now."

[sunandshadows]

Even after being offered the first cup, she'll take a sip to be polite, and then wait until he has his ready before actually drinking any. And when she has her food, she finds a patch of ground that's still mostly grass. Kneeling, she soothes the skirt of her dress down around herself, then starts picking daintily at the meal, small bits of this and that. Nibbling, not gulping, in spite of her hunger.

"All in moderation, including moderation. Perhaps if you were too comfortable under the ground before, this was just what you needed to shake yourself up a bit, and reawaken your senses to what lies in the wild. I know I must ever return home, else I get to comfortable out here, and let the wyld of my nature ever closer to the fore."

And Maxim, you need not miss it so badly! I shall visit you, and I can bring some of this with me! Perhaps a piece at a time, and perhaps more; but you'll not be left for wanting. And too, I shall beg and plead, and you may yet find yourself on other days, doing just what you are doing now. Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, these are good times to celebrate the outdoors. You shall see, I am sure."

"It will be alright, mon ami. I know this."

[bitterguardian]

"Outdoors used to be where most of life took place. For most of my life I thought nothing of camping like this... or with virtually no supplies at all. And look at me now..." He sighs and rests a hand on his stomach briefly, then sips his tea. "Holing up in the city, I've gone too soft. I can't sleep one night on the ground without waking up sore." He's a little bitter, but also resigned. "Yes, do prod at me? I need a good shaking. Getting out like this more often would do me good, and I just may be quick to fall back into my books and couches without a proper stick and carrot." He is enjoying being out here, he's just afraid he'll forget that, later.

He enjoys the breakfast, hungry after yesterday's hike, but he'll be first to move to clean up after, too.

[sunandshadows]

"If I, with all my culinary skills, with all that magic that goes into my meals - if I cannot be the carrot to your stick of self-will? I fear there be no hope for me at all."

"Indeed" She continued, after sipping the last of her tea. "If I cannot tempt you with word or with deed, with laughter and song, or my kiss on your cheek? If I cannot wile you away, for a night or a day? I fear there be no hope for me at all, and I should wither away like a leaf upon a broken stem. Sad. Sorrowful, and alone."

"For what is a fairy song, with no mortal to beguile? Would it sound so sweet with none to hear the call?"

She stands then, starts collecting the few things that need to be washed. "Perhaps then, I should make gifts of reminders to you, and present them like pearls on a string. A song one day, a package of pastries on another, a third gift my whisper in your ear that the autumn apples taste the sweetest when plucked ripe off a tree? Would that then be proper appeal to your wilder nature to come out, to come sing and play?"

And as she is speaking she's skipping about the campsite, helping him to finish cleaning, and bring the land back to it's natural state.

"We are ready I think, and the day is bright and clear. We should make it to our destination in only a few hours of walking, which leaves you plenty of time for all that you would choose to do then." Mara's eyes soften as her frolicing brings her within arm's reach of the warrior-turned-scholar.

"If you trust not your self, knowing your dour aspects, trust in me that I shall not allow myself - or at least my cooking - to be forgotten!" She reaches up to caress a bearded cheek and press herself to him in a quick, impulsive hug.

"And if all else fails, I shall tell this Belshazar of yours what good time we had together, and how you bloomed under light of sun and moon, and forest air. With him at my side to convince you? I think you would not fall back to your couch too quickly!"

[bitterguardian]

Horvath is slower to his feet than she is, levering himself up with the aid of the cane, but he's less sore and stiff going about it than he was when first they met. She's still gotten more of the chores cleaning up than he'd like, but he pulls on his pack and brushes himself off, ready for travel at roughly the same time she is.

"I'm afraid your culinary skills will only make me softer." He smirks a little, and puts an arm around her to squeeze her gently against his side, returning the hug. It's a practical demonstration, in its way, but there's a solidity under the softness. He's no cream puff, even if he thinks he is, stronger than he looks. He's a warrior still whenever the need arises. "But you know you have me wrapped up in your enchantments already. You're welcome to come visit any time to renew the spell." His smile is genuine, if a little teasing. "I'll adjust the wards for you, and then you can come and go as easily as he can, and both pull me aboveground for some fresh air."

Well rested and in bright spirits, he'll walk as easily today as he did yesterday, the rocking limp showing energy and little sign of discomfort.

[sunandshadows]

"Oh non mon chere, my skills will make you strong, not soft. The blood will course though your veins at sound and scent and sight of what I create for you, and you'll not find rest within thy breast until you come out from underground, come out to feast and play with fairy maids!"

His arm is tight about her, and she in return tightens her hug as well. "If there be enchantments in the air, sorcerer; I think perhaps that you overvalue my finger-wrapping skills, and undervalue your own. But come now, we can speak of this and more, later. Another time, perhaps. Come, come the day will not wait for us!"

They only stopped to rest once, or was it twice? Both times felt left like taking a break, and more like simply standing or sitting to continue some conversation or another. A question of food tastes and styles came up, and that keeps her cupped, and in the here-and-now for a while as recipes are bandied about, and flavors, even textures are spoken of. And then she is back to her reveling, pausing to climb trees and swing on branches as they journey.

"Can you smell it, seeker? It is a bit delicate, the smell lighter than the leaves we crush beneath our feet, and the nuts that fall from the trees. We are close, and getting closer."

"Indeed!" She calls out to him, a few minutes later. "We are not close, we have arrived!"

[bitterguardian]

He tolerates her mode of travel as well as ever, keeping up his slow and steady pace while she flits around through trees, but he's glad for the conversation too, when she keeps closer beside him. He's not the gourmet chef she is, and she may be quick to pick up that he's a meat-and-potatoes sort by default. That should come as no surprise, with his hearty build and his origins in simpler times. He's not picky though, and has experienced a wide array of dishes from various cultures in his travels.

When she asks if he can scent the aglaophotis nearby, though, he gives a mild shake of his head. "I'm afraid I don't share your senses, love..." He comes to a quick halt when she says they've arrived, afraid of stepping on the subject of his quest by sheer accident.

[sunandshadows]

Its a bush on the smaller side, just coming up to her waist and as wide around as both their arms spread out. There are small shoots coming up out of the ground around it - it is simply a very slow growing plant. There is nothing to show that it's such a rare find - no grove of green surrounds it. Just a few trees, far enough apart to let in the light. The flowers are almost gone, the leaves themselves starting to turn red in the early autumn sun.

"Do you need root or bark, bud or leaf, seeker?" Mara asks as she shrugs off her pack, dropping it near one of the tall trees. "And too, I can fetch you other things from the forest. More fresh water, should you need it: or start a fire for you if you are to be busy for a while."

[bitterguardian]

How slowly it grows is just a part of what makes it so rare, and he still approaches with care, watching to make sure he doesn't tread on any stray roots or new offshoots. "Any part will do. Could you help me harvest it gently? I want to make sure I don't damage the whole plant..." He's only seen this alive and growing a few times, even in his long life. More often when he's comes across it as a spell ingredient it was already bottled or distilled, far removed from the original living plant.

Horvath levers himself down on one knee with a grunt, unslings his pack, and rummages for the thermos he brought to put it in. "It's rare enough sorcerers have learned to make a little go a long ways... but fresh and growing like this, it ought to be more potent..." There's more than one purification ritual he could use, in fact, and he'd intended to adapt his needs to what he could get.

[sunandshadows]

"Of course I can help you!" She tilts her head and gives him a strange look, one eyebrow raised. "Do you want the plant to give you branches, or perhaps a living root to grow your own?"

She goes around the other side, and comes back shortly with a handful of fresh branch pieces taken from all over the bush, piece of root, and a single, longer branch with several flowers still in the bud. It's quite unusual, but not unheard of this time of year.

"This is for you, Maxim, a parting gift." She smiles widely at him, holding the rare, red flowers out to him. But she's not looking directly at him, not any more. Her eyes slide away from his face, she can't disguise the sudden melancholy she feels at their parting, so she will simply avoid letting him see it altogether.

[bitterguardian]

"Oh, goodness..." He's caught in the act of pulling out a small penknife, but before the blade ever touches the plant he pauses. It's the crutches that come to mind, those works of once-living art that he's a little sorry to leave behind, even as much as he dislikes needing crutches in the first place. He wasn't witness to her shaping and growing those, but he has a fairly good guess that's precisely what she did. He was trained, in his youth, about working magic on plants, coaxing unusual growth or otherwise manipulating them, but never to such an artful degree. Horvath's best skills have always been with more inert matter, or raw forces of energy. Living things of any kind are not his strength.

"I... but I live underground..." His protest is quiet, overwhelmed. A new plant, a fresh propagation of aglaophotis when it's so rare and so needed, is not something to be turned down. The contrast between them strikes him hard, though, as he thinks of his cold dark underground lair, while watching this half-wild girl of sun and wind holding a living plant in her hands. "A new plant... would mean more than I can say, but how would it fare in the city, miles underground and away from any light but reading lamps?" Tenderly he reaches out to stroke one leaf with a finger, reverently, then lifts his hand to repeat the gesture against her cheek. They're equally beautiful and awe-inspiring gifts of nature, in his mind. Perhaps her melancholy is contagious, judging from the tone of his voice.

"Would it... survive at the home you took me to, do you think? I know it's often empty but for the cats, but... I can't take a living plant down to the tunnels under Brooklyn. I'd kill it. I couldn't bear that..."