The small girl with a maneful of twigs and crackling leaves is nothing really to behold. Dark, unimposing, barely taller than the grass - she seems of little consequence to the world. Mud cakes her legs all the way up to her stomach, memoirs of her explorations.
She enjoys the meadow, likes the look of the flowering milkwort and the fading colts-foot that she had been too cold and hungry to appreciate before. She walks the length of the Meadow, than back again, then in a zig-zag motion, her nose close to the ground, eyes scanning for what she needs.
She reached down to pick up a flat, wide leaf. It was a pleasing shade of green, browning slightly around the crinkly edges (although that just enhanced its worth to her). She carried it carefully in her mouth to where she was creating a pattern, of a kind - a fibonacci spiral of leaves slowly increasing in size from the center, where a purple-tinged semi-transparent rock collection sat.
Dá was a magpie, and this was just one of many collections that lay across Beqanna, serving no purpose other than to please her eye.
She enjoys the meadow, likes the look of the flowering milkwort and the fading colts-foot that she had been too cold and hungry to appreciate before. She walks the length of the Meadow, than back again, then in a zig-zag motion, her nose close to the ground, eyes scanning for what she needs.
She reached down to pick up a flat, wide leaf. It was a pleasing shade of green, browning slightly around the crinkly edges (although that just enhanced its worth to her). She carried it carefully in her mouth to where she was creating a pattern, of a kind - a fibonacci spiral of leaves slowly increasing in size from the center, where a purple-tinged semi-transparent rock collection sat.
Dá was a magpie, and this was just one of many collections that lay across Beqanna, serving no purpose other than to please her eye.