The 35th of Fall, 515 AV
A cool Autumn breeze drifted lazily through the canopy, gently plucking off leaves of red, yellow, orange, and brown. The sun was dipping low on the horizon, and was completely obscured by rows and rows of tall trunks and branches from Beodan’s vantage point in the middle of his clearing. His head was tilted back, brown eyes reflecting the warm glow of the fire as he stared at the clear sky. It was a pale yellowish blue color, with a little crimson filtering through the trees from the west. He stretched his arms into the air with a breathy groan, rolling and popping his shoulders and elbows. He massaged his neck with a hand slowly. He ached from all the attention he had been giving his plants. Seeds needed to be collected as they appeared, so it was a nearly constant task. His only reprieve was at night.
A cold tendril of wind tickled his back, sending a shiver running down his back. The fire had died down to a pile of red embers, with wispy flames appearing and vanishing at a whim. Dan grabbed a chopped log by the end and sent the splintery to meet its doom. It caught almost immediately, more vibrant orange flames picking up as the new fuel was consumed. It popped and hissed as its sappy ichor was turned into vapor. He smiled at the familiar and frankly quite charming sound. Those random snaps could give him quite a fright if he got lost in thought and was not expecting them. He had covered the log he sat on with a blanket so the cold, polished bark would not suck the heat right out of him. His bare chest and the fronts of his legs were pleasantly toasted by the fire, making his back feel absolutely freezing by comparison. He was tempted to turn around, but then he would just have the same problem with the front. And he absolutely hated having a cold nose.
The Kelvic jumped up suddenly and dashed into the tent with a panic written on his face. He had forgotten the tea! Sure enough, the kettle was far past a rolling boil. He hastily poured it into a waiting cup with dry herbs resting at the bottom. A rich aroma flooded his senses as steam curled up from the glass. Lemongrass, peppermint, and raspberry leaves being the primary scents. Rosehip added a bit of an extra kick to it, along with a few more tasteless herbs for his health. He sighed in contentment. Soon after he was sitting in front of the fire once more, now with a cup of fragrant tea clasped between his hands. Gazing into the coals, he lost himself in nostalgic thought.
A cool Autumn breeze drifted lazily through the canopy, gently plucking off leaves of red, yellow, orange, and brown. The sun was dipping low on the horizon, and was completely obscured by rows and rows of tall trunks and branches from Beodan’s vantage point in the middle of his clearing. His head was tilted back, brown eyes reflecting the warm glow of the fire as he stared at the clear sky. It was a pale yellowish blue color, with a little crimson filtering through the trees from the west. He stretched his arms into the air with a breathy groan, rolling and popping his shoulders and elbows. He massaged his neck with a hand slowly. He ached from all the attention he had been giving his plants. Seeds needed to be collected as they appeared, so it was a nearly constant task. His only reprieve was at night.
A cold tendril of wind tickled his back, sending a shiver running down his back. The fire had died down to a pile of red embers, with wispy flames appearing and vanishing at a whim. Dan grabbed a chopped log by the end and sent the splintery to meet its doom. It caught almost immediately, more vibrant orange flames picking up as the new fuel was consumed. It popped and hissed as its sappy ichor was turned into vapor. He smiled at the familiar and frankly quite charming sound. Those random snaps could give him quite a fright if he got lost in thought and was not expecting them. He had covered the log he sat on with a blanket so the cold, polished bark would not suck the heat right out of him. His bare chest and the fronts of his legs were pleasantly toasted by the fire, making his back feel absolutely freezing by comparison. He was tempted to turn around, but then he would just have the same problem with the front. And he absolutely hated having a cold nose.
The Kelvic jumped up suddenly and dashed into the tent with a panic written on his face. He had forgotten the tea! Sure enough, the kettle was far past a rolling boil. He hastily poured it into a waiting cup with dry herbs resting at the bottom. A rich aroma flooded his senses as steam curled up from the glass. Lemongrass, peppermint, and raspberry leaves being the primary scents. Rosehip added a bit of an extra kick to it, along with a few more tasteless herbs for his health. He sighed in contentment. Soon after he was sitting in front of the fire once more, now with a cup of fragrant tea clasped between his hands. Gazing into the coals, he lost himself in nostalgic thought.