Completed The Nettle District's Bloom

[Sigrun Dominic]

1st of Spring, 513 AV The Nettle District "Another new year, Snowe." The young blonde ran her fingers along the soft fur of the canine as it rested its head on her lap. The pair lay still on the creaky cot that had come with the apartment, with a thick bedroll and a winter blanket layered over the stiff, worn mattress. ""We're barely living," she sighed, her eyes diverting from the cracked, empty walls to her dog, "barely living off the fish that I've barely been catching." Chuckling, she gave the dog a gentle peck on the forehead before slowly rising from the bed. Snowe eyed her curiously before settling into the furry winter blanket, stretching his legs and yawning heavily. "Stay here and rest, then," Sigrun turned towards the wooden chair nearby and picked up her leather cape. She turned to Snowe, who was already half-asleep, as she sat down to put on her boots. "I'm going for a walk," she said, and grinned when the Inganu merely exhaled heavily and closed its eyes to sleep. —————————— ※ —————————— The air was thick with the scent of human sweat. People were rushing in and out of the taverns and inns, and the welcome center was teeming with people standing idle. Sigrun scowled and brought her hood over her head, her cutlass hanging limp by her waist. She pressed her hand on the hilt for a moment and breathed out heavily as she weaved her way through the bustling crowds of people. "This doesn't feel like spring at all," she thought to herself, blowing away a lock of hair that fell over her face. She briefly eyed a few knights along the way as they stood tall and proud, their eyes trained over the people as they went about their business. "I could never be a knight," she said to herself, biting her lip and turning towards the commercial district, "I wouldn't be able to stand all that patrolling and guarding and whatnot." "I bet it's tiring for the eyes," she mumbled, smirking. "What did you say?" a large man with an obvious layer of filth building up over his clothing turned towards the young blonde, his brows furrowed as he gazed down at her. Apparently he'd assumed she was inserting her two cents into his conversation with the vendor nearby. She eyed the exasperated shopkeeper behind the stall and pursed her lips. "Don't bring that little girl into this," the vendor waved his hand in the air to avert his customer's attention, "now, fifteen silver mizas is a good price..." Sigrun quickly slipped in between a small group of window shoppers, away from the large man and the vendor. She patted her palm against the money pouch that hung along her belt to ensure its safety. "What was the point of doing this," she scanned the multitude of stalls for anything interesting, "I've just given myself the opportunity to catch a disease." Every stall looked almost exactly the same, with the same produce or items, but with prices that varied only marginally. The faces that eyed the shops were the only things that vastly different for ever stall. Sigrun turned towards the sky and caught sight of a bird in flight. It could've been an eagle, or something else, but she knew next to nothing about birds in order to tell what breed it was. "Imagine all that freedom blowing against those outstretched wings," she thought dreamily. Her eyes remained up at the blue sky, silently admiring the clouds, and only occasionally looking down to make sure that she wasn't going the wrong way. Suddenly, the deafening noise of people talking and shouting boisterously here and there had become faint and muted, and even the stench of multitudes of people standing for hours underneath the sun had failed to find their way to her. Somehow, she felt herself walking along an empty, silent forest. It was all just her imagination, of course, and as soon as someone bumps her shoulder or growls at her to make way, she is snapped back to reality. She briefly remembers how she once wished to have the ability to fly, and how she and her younger brother had pretended to be birds by tying large pieces of cloth to their shoulders and mimmicking flight all around the outskirts of Syliras while their father fished nearby. "Sigrun! Sigrun!" She almost jerked her head to the side as she remembered her younger brother calling out her name. "Sigrun! Watch what I can do!" Suppressing a sad smile, she closed her eyes for a moment and preferred to let her feet lead her. "You're a better flyer than I am, sister, will you teach me to be better?" More and more people began to angrily bump into her shoulder, and one even pressed his body against her for a moment before realizing that she had been in his way. "Why can't I jump from that rock, sister? I think I'll fly better if I try!" "No you won't," she whispered bitterly, as she opened her eyes. "Sigrun?" A brilliant and large stall teeming with flowers met her aquamarine irises. Colorful plants of all shapes and sizes dangled from the roof of the open shop and crates full of more potted beauties were arranged along the sides and all over the tabletops. She could barely see the wood that made up the shop stall, as everything was covered in a myriad of magnificent shades and hues. An old woman was catering to the front of the stall, her wrinkled, yet steady hands arranging an array of flowers and accents inside an ornate clay pot. The young woman next to her seemed brightened not only by the old woman's skill, but also by the sweet-smelling environment that the shop had. The Flower Stand was painted in a beautiful script on a small sign nearby. As the customer left with her prized arrangement, Sigrun cautiously approached the old woman, her eyes wide with deep and genuine interest. Before she could call her attention, however, the florist brought out a long-stemmed, pink flower and handed it to her. "For you," she said sweetly. Her voice had a soft shake, one that was barely noticeable amidst the background noise of people chattering. Sigrun's eyes widened even more as she gently wrapped her fingers around the thin, lithe flower. "It looks a lot like you, dear," the old woman chirped. Sigrun couldn't understand how a flower could look like anybody. "Th-thank you," she said, her words didn't feel as cold as they usually did. She was about to say that it was beautiful, but decided against it; if it looked like her, she didn't want to sound narcissistic of pompous. Her cheeks flushed as she scanned the stall, her nose taking a wiff of the pink flower. It smelled heavenly, almost like a confectionary. "Are you having a bad day, child?" the old woman chuckled, "it seems as if you are." The old woman turned to say hello to a few people who passed by. Sigrun assumed that they must have been regular buyers. "Not precisely," she shrugged, her eyes scanning the flower, admiring its rich color, and for a moment wishing to have a dress in its shade. "I suppose you could say that I'm... searching for an answer," she suppressed a chuckle. It was more than an answer, but it was all that she was willing to divulge. "What is the question?" the old woman mused, her hands gently brushing over the flowers, her fingers ghosting over their petals. The plants followed the movement of her palm with so much obedience that it was almost as if they were drawn to her touch. Sigrun looked at her briefly with awe. "A better job," she grinned, which was unlike her. The old woman seemed positively kind and completely harmless, and she had an aura to her that made the young girl feel safe and secure. Immediately the blonde found herself already very comfortable around the florist. "Let me be your answer," the old woman brought out her hand for a shake, "Atta, Atta Sabot." Sigrun's hand was as drawn to the old woman's palm as the flowers were. Immediately the blonde stretched out her arm and returned the handshake warmly. "Mrs. Sabot," she said softly, "I know nothing of flowers, and arrangements, and... well, anything related to this." "There is nothing in life that you cannot teach," Atta turned around and picked up a watering can, "there are only certain things that you cannot learn." Sigrun opened her mouth to speak, but was rendered speechless. She eyed Atta curiously. "And please," the old woman added, "call me Atta."

[Sigrun Dominic]

"So what will you be having me do?" Sigrun paused for a moment, "erm, Atta?" The old woman chuckled as she walked behind the stall and began arranging various vases and pots of different shapes and sizes. "Quite a lot of things," Atta said with a smile, "from flower arranging, to delivery, and other errands." "What sort of errands?" the young blonde asked, cautiously moving over to the back of the stall with the old lady. Atta paused and looked up, "picking up flowerpots from my supplier over at the grand bazaar, for example. I would also need a hand at bringing flowers over to my shop from my fields just outside of Syliras." Sigrun simply stared at the woman blankly, suddenly unsure of what to do or say. It sounded like a lot of work. "As for delivery, my dear, well that speaks for itself," Atta chuckled. "Yes well, all those are quite easy except for the fact that I can't arrange flowers," Sigrun bit her lip and turned to look at the flowers. They were all so beautiful placed together randomly, but the young girl still doubted that it was all that easy; flower arrangement is an art that sn't as simple as it seems. "Like I said, I'll teach you," Atta took out a long, skinny ceramic vase painted a hue much similar to Sigrun's eye color. "Place your little flower in here and take it home with you," the old woman said, as she filled the little vase with water from a nearby pail. Sigrun took the vase and placed the pink flower inside of it. "Now?" she asked, as Atta turned away to deal with another customer, "you'll teach me now?" "Tomorrow," the old woman said with her back turned away from the young girl. "Come back tomorrow and I'll give you some pointers." —————————— ※ —————————— "Can you believe this, Snowe." Sigrun stared at the pink flower as it sat on her little wooden table. "It must miss it's other colorful friends back at the flower shop, yes?" she turned towards the canine, who was sitting on the chair next to the table, his wet nose sniffing at the lone plant. "Don't eat it, now," the blonde chuckled, her hands smoothing over the fur of her winter blanket. It was finally evening and the girl had spent the rest of her day wandering the streets until she grew tired, and eventually wound her way back to her apartment at the Traveler's Row. "This is absurd," the young girl mumbled, her arms outstretched and her hands folded behind her head as she laid on her mattress, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. She felt Snowe jump onto the bed and rest his head on her stomach, his body curling up next to her. "I'm a florist!" she exhaled sharply, "well, not yet, but I've began the road to becoming one, have I?" she turned her head towards the dog, "am I going to become just like Atta?" "This is temporary, don't worry, this is. All this was meant to be temporary to begin with. We'll leave eventually, won't we?" "For now we just need to live. We just need to live." —————————— ※ —————————— 2nd of Spring, 513 AV The Flower Stand, Nettle District "Knock yourself out." "What, with my own fists?" Sigrun grinned at the old woman, who smiled brightly up at her. "I'm very sorry, but pinching myself is about as far as I go in terms of self-harm," she laughed. Atta somehow reminded her so much about her own mother, and that made the young girl comfortable with smiling, laughing, and joking around with her. "No dear, I meant with these," Atta turned towards her work table, presenting to the blonde a modest-sized pot and an assortment of leafy vines, stems, and flowers. "Use your imagination." "And in the event that I don't have one?" the young girl chuckled. "I'll hire someone who does," the old woman responded with a laugh. Sigrun filled the base of the pot with water, and then proceeded to cover the rims with lanky bright green vines. She stared at the center of the pot for a moment before adding a bunch of golden flowers at the center, and then framing it with larger orange ones. "That looks like a casserole," Atta commented. "That was my vision," Sigrun said proudly, chuckling to herself. She then took out all the flowers and tried again. She covered the sides of the pot with ferns, and then proceeded to fill the center with a mix of the orange and yellow flowers. She then added accents of long thin stems that bloomed a multitude of tiny white buds. "Better, much better," Atta smiled, moving towards the work table and making a few adjustments to the piece, "now go and deliver this to this address." Atta scrawled something on a small note and handed it out to the girl. Sigrun took the slip of paper out of the old woman's hand and placed the pot in a wooden crate. "How am I supposed to do that?" "With this," the old woman pulled out a small wooden wagon, fit for only two crates. Sigrun placed the crate inside of it and began to wheel the wagon down the street. —————————— ※ —————————— "Amazing," she thought to herself, as she exited the Nettle district and entered the Illythian district. Careful not to damage the pot or the flowers, she stayed towards the side of the road and moved swiftly and cautiously up the streets, admiring the beautiful buildings and the people who walked and stood nearby them. She stopped in front of the apartment complex that she had been instructed to go to. "Excuse me," she entered the reception area, turning to look at the slip of paper, "for a... Mister..." "Ah, yes, finally," the snooty receptionist moved away from her desk and plucked the pot out of the wagon without asking. Sigrun eyed her exasperatedly. "Rude," she mouthed, but the woman paid her no mind. "Here is your pay, thank you," the receptionist handed the young blonde a small pouch of coins and then called for a servant to deliver the flowers upstairs. "They ought to pay for manners around here as well," Sigrun muttered as she made her way to the exit. —————————— ※ —————————— "My dear, this young man needs some advice." Sigrun returned to the shop with Atta patting the shoulder of a young auburn-haired man. "What are you looking for?" she asked, glancing down at the wide selection of flowers before looking at the man once more. "He needs something that'll bring life back to something that is dying," Atta said as she turned to listen to another customer. "I'm sorry?" she looked up at the man, who looked positively forlorn that it was not Atta who was speaking to him. "I... Well," he glanced at Atta, and then back at Sigrun, "my girl, ya see, she won't speak to me." "And why is that?" Sigrun crossed her arms. "Aye, well, we had a fight, y'see..." the young man scratched the back of his head, "She said I wasn' makin' 'er happy anymore." "Well, maybe it's time to move on to better prospects," Sigrun shrugged, furrowing her brows at Atta, who turned around and looked at her. The blonde girl sighed. "Are you happy with her?" she asked, and the young man shook his head slowly. "Why not?" "Well, 'cause she's always fightin' with me, I s'pose," he mumbled. "Why?" Sigrun asked again, her voice authoritative and firm. "She don't like the way I'm always out," he said, "but I don't like how she's been tying me down fer so long, y'know?" Sigrun looked down and bit her lip. "Do you love her?" she asked, her eyes staring intently at a bundle of deep red flowers. The young man brightened, his eyes twinkling as he nodded vigorously. "O'course I do!" he grinned. "What were the first flowers you ever gave her? Give her that, and remind her of how you two were in the very beginning," Sigrun looked up at the young man, whose face seemed to light up with hope. "If you love her, don't change the way you treat her just because you've had her for such a long time. It doesn't work that way." "Right, right, It was these," the young man pointed at the red flowers. Sigrun suppressed a smirk. "I figured as much," she said softly, and prepared a small bouquet of them. "Aye, just three," he said. "Three?" the blonde girl looked up at him. "I only gave her just three the first time," he smiled warmly. The young girl tied together three of the red flowers and wordlessly handed them over to him. "Thank you, thank you so much," he exclaimed, handing her a couple of mizas before running off. "Excellent job," Atta said, turning to Sigrun as she finished the transaction with the customer she was speaking to. "They never bother to count their coins, do they," the young blonde said as she stared off into the distance, watching the young man disappear into the crowd. Atta smiled warmly. "These flowers don't come with a definite price. I decide how much they'll cost." "And you believe he paid fairly? As with the arrangement I just delivered?" Sigrun turned around to face the old woman. Atta laughed. "That young man knows the price of three roses. As for the flowers you delivered, the price was already previously discussed." Sigrun smiled warmly at the old woman as she went behind the stall and began took a seat near her worktable. "Roses, huh," the young girl took a whiff of the red flower's velvety petals and scrunched her nose. The scent was sharp. "So, how about that training?"

[Sigrun Dominic]

Atta was silent as she sat down by her workplace and began to take out two small ceramic mugs from a rucksack underneath the table. She then brought out a jug and poured tea in both. Sigrun was never a fan of tea, but welcomed the free drink when it was handed to her. She sat down opposite the old woman and eyed her curiously. "Why did you have me help that man?" she asked, as she took a sip from the mug. Sigrun winced at the tea's bitterness, and furrowed her brows when she saw that Atta was unfazed by the strange taste. "If you weren't aware, I am involved with matters of the heart as well," the old woman chuckled as she poured herself some more tea. "Many people come to me for advice. I've gotten quite popular, mind you, they've even gone as far as to refer to me as a poet!" Sigrun grinned, "Ah, a florist and a poet," the girl teased. "Oh, you'll be involved in poetry as well, my dear, very much so if you're going to be in this business!" Atta laughed. Sigrun sighed and raised her eyebrows, "I can't wait!" "It's not that hard to listen to people, dear," Atta said as she smiled at familiar passersby, "it's even less of a hardship to give out your two cents on the matter." "I don't want to lead people astray with my horrible outlook on love," the young girl smirked and sipped her tea, imagining it to be ale, and still failing miserably to like it. "Someone will change that," Atta said knowingly, "someone will change that." "I don't expect anyone to," she replied coldly. "There are seven colors in a rainbow," Atta chirped, immediately changing the subject. "I'm sorry?" the young blonde looked up from her tea. "You know what a rainbow is, don't you?" the old woman furrowed her brows. "I— Well— yes, yes I do," Sigrun nodded vigorously. "A rainbow has seven colors, and each color comes in practically millions of different hues. You can see so for yourself, right here. Dark and light shades of red, orange, yellow..." "I see, I see, and these hues have names?" she added, and the old woman nodded. "But you need not concern yourself with their names, what matters is that you know how to complement them." "You have red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet," Atta took out a flower that represented each color and laid it on the table in a circular formation. "Visualize it as if it were a wheel of colors." "Alright, alright," Sigrun brought her chair closer to the table and eyed the old woman like an inquisitive child. Atta then added more flowers in between the seven that were already on the table, forming a more distinct circle of colors as she included more shades into the spectrum. The old woman then highlighted the primary seven colors by having them protude like spokes on a wheel. "You have two options here, when selecting colors for an arrangement," Atta lectured, pointing a finger at the red flower and then at the two flowers on either side of it, "take a primary color and complement it with these two colors next to it. Or..." She then highlighted another set of flowers by bringing pulling them forward as well, making sure that they weren't aligned to the primary colors as not to confuse the girl. "Or, take a secondary color, and do the same." "Avoid mixing hot and cold colors," Atta added, "that tends to end badly." "Is that it?" Sigrun gaped at the simplicity. She eyed the spectrum and took note of the secondary colors, "Orange, purple, and green." "Tertiary colors are what you use as accents to your arrangements, at best, although they can be used as the dominant color in a set as well." Atta pointed her finger at the flowers with much more muted shades that were placed in between the primary and secondary flowers, "there is a huge variation of tertiary colors that have wonderful names, and they're usually much more subdued shades of your primary and secondary colors." "Huh," Sigrun muttered, "not so simple after all." "You see?" Atta smiled. "The term 'variation' is quite intimidating," Sigrun grinned nervously, "It doesn't sound very finite." "Should I leave you to decide how pots work?" Atta chuckled. "No, no no, you tell me how pots work!" Sigrun laughed, standing up and pointing at the stack of them by the wall. "Well, it's simple, really," Atta picked out a fat circular one, a tall wide one, and a tall thin one. She placed all three on the work table and then added a miniature one, and another fat one with a much wider mouth. She placed her hand along the lip of the first one. "This, is for circular arrangements, like the one you made this morning. This..." Atta then took the second one. "Is for triangular arrangements, where the flowers seem to form a triangular shape, of course. The next one over here, a much thinner version, is for more simplistic arrangements with a minimal amount of flowers." "Ah, I understand, and this other fat one is for circular arrangements as well?" Sigrun placed her hand upon it. Atta shook her head. "Crescent arrangements, those are for crescent-shaped arrangements," the old woman replied. "Well this is complicated," Sigrun chuckled. Atta nodded and picked up the miniature pot. "These are for solo flowers, or a very much smaller set of flowers," she said. Sigrun nodded. "That makes sense." Atta put all the pots back in their place. "As for bouquets, you use the twine over there to hold them in place," she pointed over to the large ball of string perched on a shelf underneath her stall, "but you knew that already, you helped that nice young man a while ago." "Sometimes," Atta began keeping the jug and ceramic mugs away, "I add a roll of cloth or parchment to a bouquet to make it look nicer, but only upon request." "Is that all?" Sigrun winced as the sun began to shine upon their faces. It was getting quite late. "That is all," Atta smiled warmly, patting the young girl on the shoulder as she moved towards her. "I'll tell you about the nice old man who provides for my pottery at the great bazaar some other time. Possibly tomorrow. For my fields, perhaps later on." Sigrun watched as Atta began packing more of her things. "You go on home, dear, get some rest as I'll be bullying you quite a lot tomorrow. It's only your first day, after all." The young girl gazed at her silently, smiling to herself. "Alright, Atta," she said softly, as she prepared to leave, "I'll see you tomorrow." The blonde made her way around to the front of the store and towards the streets of the district. Before she could get far from the shop, however, Atta called out to her. "I'm very sorry, dear, but I haven't caught your name?" Sigrun grinned warmly, and jogged over to the old woman. Normally she would want to be called by her last name, but she believed that she owed the woman much more than that. "Sigrun," she murmured happily, "it's Sigrun."

[Sigrun Dominic]

3rd of Spring, 513 AV The Flower Stand - Nettle District "Sigrun!" "Yes Atta," the young blonde snapped, sweat dripping from down her forehead. Her voice cracked, it's tone much lower than usual, betraying her exhaustion. Sigrun grinned, nonetheless, as she was feeling quite good working full-time next to the old woman. "Five circular arrangements." "You're cruel," the girl moaned. "I jest, only two," Atta laughed. It was the afternoon of her second day and Sigrun was dying for a mug of Ale and a cushioned seat, perhaps even a trip to the springs. Atta was driving her mad with all the orders, but even though it was taking quite the toll on her, she was enjoying the exercise. The young blonde brought out two pots and filled their bases with water. "Is there a theme I should be following with these two?" she called out, as she began picking out some flowers and accents from the front of the stall. "Cool colors, my dear, I believe the customer wanted something soothing to the eyes," Atta said as she made her way to a customer who had just approached the stall, "use a lot of green." "Green?" Sigrun grinned, as she picked out a set of brilliant charteuse flowers, and then a bunch of baby pink ones. "Yes dear," Atta replied, "if you hadn't noticed, mint is a salve." The young blonde laughed as she began to arrange her choice plants. The tall pink flowers framed the back of the pots and the center was then filled up with the soft green blooms. She then added a few leafy stems in between the blushing buds and a couple of small white flowers. "Is this fine, Atta?" she turned to Atta, who had just given a modest bouquet to a customer. The old woman glanced over at the flowers and nodded. "Send it over to the address on our list of orders," Atta pointed at the wooden board on the worktable, "there should be three orders of simple bouquets listed there as well, please deal with that." A trio of Syliran knights who appeared off-duty began approaching the stand. Sigrun eyed them carefully as she began to collect three different bunches of flowers, tying them all separately with twine. "Oh, don't you worry, Sigrun," Atta laughed, pushing the young girl over to the small cart next to the stall, already stocked and ready. The three knights smiled warmly at Atta, as if they were very familiar with her. "Ah," the young girl understood. She smiled at the old woman and began dragging the cart down the road, with two bouquets in hand and the third resting by the crates of flower arrangements. The houses were much more modest in the Maiden district, in comparison to the Illythian district, and it made Sigrun feel more comfortable mixing with the people there. There were a few working businesses in the area, as well as informal stalls, and for a moment the young blonde was drawn to their unique items for sale. "First busy day on the job and you plan to slack?" she joked, eyeing the glassware of one vendor. Suddenly the young girl realized where she was, as she saw a familiar home at a considerable distance. Her jaw slacked as she was reminded of the place she used to call home in the district. The simple stone house was sandwiched in between many others, and was now owned by a large family who were strangers to Sigrun. The familiar window shutters, the shabby wooden door, and the warmth of candlelight brewing inside all seemed to envelope the girl, as if she were right next to the building, and not far, far away. "It's no wonder you don't come here often," she told herself solemnly, "this is the one place you'd like to forget." "Finish your job and get out of here, don't dwell," Sigrun thought, as she scanned the streets for her destination. The Maiden district was still the same; modestly beautiful, but haunting, because of the memories that dotted every corner. Once she'd reach the home she was meant to deliver the arrangements to, the young girl was parched, her skin glowing with sweat. A middle-aged woman opened the door and looked at Sigrun up and down with a warm smile. "Ah, you must be Atta's new delivery girl?" the woman had a kind voice. She beckoned Sigrun to enter her home. The young blonde dragged the cart of flowers inside. "I am many things, with the inclusion of a delivery girl, ma'am." "A florist, as well?" she said, engaging in small talk as she brought Sigrun over to a table, "are you her apprentice?" Sigrun carefully raised the pots and placed them on the table. "No, ma'am, I'm only trying to put food on the table," she attempted a smile, but ended up grimacing, "but I'm enjoying working under Mrs. Sabot." "Hm, then what would you be doing if you were not at the Flower Stand?" the woman was beginning to irritate Sigrun. She could understand her curiosity, but did not fancy answering any more questions. They were beginning to get too personal for her. The young girl shrugged and made her way for the door, wordlessly. Before exiting, however, she turned and glanced at the woman, nodding to her as a form of farewell. But even if she didn't mind answering the question, she still wouldn't have an answer. —————————— ※ —————————— After delivering the bouquets, Sigrun returned to the stall to find Atta sitting down with a mug of tea. "Would you like some?" The young blonde parked the cart next to the stall and sat down opposite the old woman. She shook her head and waved a hand in the air. "I believe you've already noticed how much I despise the taste of that." "I can't imagine why," Atta mused. Business at the Flower Stand boomed in the mornings, but died down in the afternoon. Atta tended to close things down in the middle of the afternoon or later, depending on the amount of people who came by during the day. "Will you have me here everyday?" Sigrun asked, after the two sat in silence for a few minutes, their gazes both fixated on the busy streets. It was finally lunch time. The hours passed quickly when Sigrun worked, as delivering the flowers and arranging them took a lot of time. "Not everyday," Atta replied in between sips of tea, "possibly only the first few days of every season, and days before events or festivals." "Oh yeah?" Sigrun turned to the old woman as she crossed her legs. "Those are always the busiest times. The first few days of the season, and then the middle of it, and of course, during grand events that require my expertise." Atta winked at the girl. "Of course, my dealings with Stormhold castle's flower arrangements are not your concern." Sigrun turned to the side and chuckled, she paused for a moment, pondering. "I don't quite understand flowers." "No?" Atta put down her mug and gazed over at the multitudes of them in front of the stall, "but they understand you." "Excuse me?" the blonde turned to face Atta with a confused grin. "I'm only joking," the old woman replied with a laugh. "Flowers are a beauty to behold, and they represent so many things." Atta poured herself some more tea, and then placed the jug inside her rucksack underneath the worktable. Sigrun watched her carefully, eyeing the wrinkles in her hands and her face, and the way her skin seemed to cave in and sink in some places. Her thinning, silvery hair was in a loose chignon, and the young girl wondered to herself if it felt just like a spider's cobwebs. "The same way paintings can be worth a thousand words, a flower can represent an important message." Sigrun leaned over, her curiosity piqued. "White flowers tend to symbolize death, or a happy union in marriage." "What striking opposites," the blonde commented. "Red, obviously, symbolizes love. Yellow, symbolizes friendship." "Perhaps they do understand us," Sigrun chuckled, "they come in colors that are representational to our relationships with each other." Atta smirked, "now you understand." Sigrun watched as Atta finished her drink and put the ceramic mug away. "Sometimes, words aren't enough, or are too much." "Atta," the girl watched as the old woman got up from her seat and approached the order list nearby, "Atta, I can't say I'll stay." "Oh, I know dear," the old woman replied sweetly, "but for now, you're here, and that's what matters. The now, not the later." Sigrun smiled, suddenly feeling extreme adoration for the woman. Her mother had once given her so many wise words just the same, and she found herself wishing that she were still alive. "Two more bouquets and you're done for the day," Atta said, "don't concern yourself with the delivery, they're for pick-up." Sigrun rose from her seat and silently scanned the contents of the order list. A simple bouquet of roses and another more intricate one made of daffodils. "Oh, daffodils, daffodils," Atta said whimsically, as if she were singing, "those are one of my absolute favorites. So beautiful." "Are they now?" Sigrun began taking a bundle of roses and tying them up neatly. She then began to collect daffodils from the front of the stall and tied them up with white accent flowers. "They look strange," the blonde murmured as she finished tying them up, furrowing her brows at them, "I'm afraid I must disagree!" "Oh, hurry on home," Atta shooed the girl jokingly, "you've done enough damage here!" Sigrun laughed, her eyes twinkling with happiness and her skin rosy from all the sweating. "Goodbye, Atta, I'll be seeing you." "Have a nice afternoon, Sigrun, be safe," the old woman waved her farewell as the young girl walked down the street, "practice your poetry when you get home." Sigrun burst out laughing and turned around to wave goodbye, "Alright, but I can't make you any promises!"

[Accolade]

Sigrun

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Socializing	+ 4 XP
Rhetoric	+ 3 XP
Observation	+ 2 XP
Flower Arranging	+ 3 XP
Botany	+ 3 XP
Interrogation	+ 2 XP

Lores

•	Lore Earned
•	Gifted a Flower
•	Looking for an Answer
•	What Would You Have Me Do?
•	Finding the Flower Stand
•	Attaining a Job
•	The Basics of Flower Arranging
•	Flowers are Adornments
•	The Nettle District-location

Notes :

Syliras is a city within a castle. Thus, you wouldn't see the sky, (or likely any birds), from the section of stalls you described. Otherwise good thread!

The Sylir has spoken

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.