All things want to open. [any]

[lilliana]

"I know," she says, her voice softer than before and those blue eyes still dreaming.

She thinks of the pines that had graced her childhood home, tall, statuesque things that she remembers being told had seen generations pass beneath their canopies. She thinks of the dense spruces that had clung together so densely in Culloden, growing to a size that took lifetimes. She thinks of the slender birch, reaching and starkly pale against a backdrop of dark wood. She thinks of the oak and the elm, searching through childhood memories to try and find the moment that she thought these proud beings were timeless. Her blue eyes climb up, up, up - higher and higher. They linger and she still wonders, finding magic in wondering about the moments that must have happened in this very spot.

Love, birth, death, war and everything in between. Lilli finds wonder in thinking about even the mundane moments - the conversations that led to nowhere and the travelers who spent only moments here. Fleeting moments in time that only the chestnut girl would find beautiful.

Perhaps the mare's next words are meant to be harsh but the edges of her lips curl as Lilli continues to consider the wood. It is quick but something flashes behind those blue eyes - amusement. "I've never met anyone who can talk to trees. But I heard of someone once who could command them. He used them to hide his kingdom. I always wondered if they was what wanted. I guess it's an odd thought - wondering if a tree is selfless? It just seemed such a shame to me that no one asked them if defending his kingdom was what they wanted." Finally, she turns her gaze from the trees and stares steadily at Neverwhere, finding herself appreciating the mares directness.

"Your right," she adds though she finds the thoughts of screaming trees haunting. It went back into the realm of impossibilities, a place that Lilli so often likes to dwell. "What if they weep? Mourn their kin that has fallen, a forest that has vanished?" It is so tempting for her to go back, to wonder and ponder what secrets the wood might hide, the moments and memories it must hold. She looks away from Neverwhere one more time and sends a silent thought the the trees that stand before them, that if they weep or scream or laugh, Lilli hears them. She hears them and wishes (whatever they might feel) them peace.

She returns her attention to Neverwhere. The mare, while somewhat reserved, hasn't openly scowled or hurled angry words at her (yet). Lilli decides it's an improvement and dips her head in greeting, "I'll call you Neverwhere then." The voice is warm, teasing even.  When the crimson head rises, Lilli is still smiling. It is small but it feels familiar on her face, like picking up a a neverending conversation with an old friend or the resuming of a regular ritual or habit. "What brings you to Beqanna?"

@[neverwhere]