wintergreen /

wintergreen hedgerow, warrior of light, for vraelgard.

[hedgebud]

heartoaths​:

@hedgebud​ liked for a starter. 

“I’m not good with gardens,” Sora admits with a shrug careful enough not to spill the water in the watering can. However, shortcomings were never a thing that stopped him; try again and again and all that, even if it’s as mundane as helping a stranger tend to a garden patch. Though Sora would never personally see it as mundane—helping is helping and everything deserves his best effort if he’s asked. “But I have a friend; he always ends up asking me to help with his veggies and fruits and sometimes I go flower picking. So, I know a little since he gets super specific. I think it’s cool being able to grow things and stuff though.”

“it’s okay,” they say, and mean it with every fiber of their little body. “everyone starts of being not so great with gardens. so long as you keep working on it, though, you can do anything you want!” hedge is on their knees next to him, fussing around under the flowers to pull the weeds out by the roots, and if sora’s managed to accidentally water them too, they don’t seem to mind. “i can tell you care about the plants even though you’re not an expert and that’s what matters the most. i think. that part is really hard to teach.”

a particularly stubborn thistle comes out of the soil with an oof from the little conjurer, and they sit back, smiling up at their companion. “tell me about your friend! he must have been a good person!”

[hedgebud]

excessivelyalive​:

It’s not this stranger’s fault that Miriam is struggling. Her head is buzzing, a practical hive of thoughts and feelings and all the components of existence that she tries not to think too hard on a day to day sort of schedule. She takes a breath in, lets it out, and takes another one in before focusing on actually replying to the other. Focus, think, respond appropriately. All in a day’s processes. 

“Market? That sounds good, great actually. I’ve been trying to figure out how I’m supposed to handle groceries. It’s all a lot to think about.” Nothing seems to work exactly as she’s used to, and it bothers her. That, and well, she’s very used to Tabi or Bruno being responsible for the ins and outs of supplies. She accompanies them at times, but really, she’s been operating on a leash, wrapped up in a false sense of independence she should really be taking herself away from. 

“I’d love the help, actually.” She doesn’t say more than that, unwilling to admit that she feels very, very lost. “You wanna be my shopping buddy for a little bit? I should probably get stuff that’s not cigarettes, and you seem pretty cool. I wouldn’t mind chatting if you’re up to it.” 

they’re more than happy to wait for her to orient herself. they’ve seen this before, time and again, when the world tips on its head and nobody else can put on a brave face quite as fast as hedge can--they’re used to watching people put themselves back together.

sure, it’s usually over something more important than grocery shopping, but who are they to judge?

“okay!” of course they agree without a second thought, already setting off down the road in the direction of the marketplace. she so clearly needs the help, and they’re not going to turn their back on her now. “well, i already spent what they gave me on some plants, but i can carry your stuff for you at least. and in my defense,” they add, already foreseeing her skeptical look, “they were all very nice plants in need of a good and loving home so i thought that i had better get them and raise them well!”

the conjurer glances back at her, beaming. “i can give you one of them too if you want the company!”

[brightlilies-a]

   “they aren’t voidsent,” a single finger taps the tip of his nose nonchalantly, with a small smile growing on his features as he hops forward. twigs snap beneath his feet, and the metal chains on his robes clink and clank joyously, obliviously, amid the tense air. red ears wiggle as he turns his attention down the path the shadow fled, and his white tipped tail twitches excitably for the prospective hunt——as ill-advised as he knows it to be.

   “don’t smell like ‘em, yanno?” so his attention returns to the lalafell nearby ( a welcome stranger, a budding friend ! ) with odd eyes wide and warm. something about them instantly resonated with him, like meeting a kindred spirit, someone who might understand things only they would know, and such familiarity… amid such unfamiliarity… was comforting. want as he might for a more pleasant venue for better conversation, though, his hand gestures away, resolving to ask his burning questions another day. 

   “wanna track it down, hedge? the trail’s fresh enough i can follow it. might get us a few answers, if nothin’ else.”

@hedgebud​

[hedgebud]

it’s clear that they want to argue with him by the way they keep puffing their cheeks out like they’re having to hold back one childish comeback after another. and honestly, you can hardly blame them--their whole career has been a parade of people who think they know far less than they do, so having someone well, actually them like this has their hackles up.

but albi’to’s a miqo’te, and if he says the smell’s wrong then who are they to question his judgment? stars know their own nose isn’t good for much more than picking out different herbs in a garden. so hedge shifts their weight from one foot to the other, puffs their cheeks like a child, and very responsibly does not argue with the man.

and then he offers them a little bit of adventure, and the air goes out of them in a rush, and all slights are forgiven. “can you really do that! without footprints or anything!” just because you can’t see any prints, hedge, doesn’t mean they’re not there. “okay! okay, yeah, we can track it down and make it leave everyone else alone! i’ll back you up,” they insist, as if they have, y’know, a weapon, or any of their old skills. it’s probably fine.

[hedgebud]

enviedsin‌:

                 At the other’s remark the demon’s face only tensed. It was a knee jerk reaction so it wasn’t as if he could help it — but even if he could, he couldn’t say in full confidence that it wouldn’t happen anyway. Showing kindness to strangers… Couldn’t say he was the type, nor would he ever be. It was a nasty mindset of his, however it only seemed to matter when he was in trouble. That being said, it didn’t seem like he was right now, so he gave a simple, “ It’s whatever. ” Before bringing his mind back to fantasy lore… 

                “ I dunno where you’re from though, but I’m preeeetty sure the only moving things made of rocks were stone elementals or golems. Unless you were talking about a garden gnome. ” He spoke, overly sure of himself considering he admitted himself that he hadn’t the slightest clue where the other was from ( not that he’d own up to it in a second if called out on it ). “ If you’re not a gnome then what are you ? — a leprechaun ? Harvin ? ” Surely one of those would be right.  

they cross their arms tight over their chest and fix a look of intense concentration on their face, casting their mind back over the various things they’ve been bludgeoned by. “well, sure, those things are made of rocks too, but gnomes are as well, and i know this ‘cause i fought a couple once!” sure, they were barely-relevant regional monsters, but they still count. “they’re just like golems but… um… littler. and not golems?”

his question startles them out of their focus, and they actually jump a little in place. talk about a one-track mind. “um–what are those things! i’m a lalafell! we’re all pretty small but we do important things too so i don’t think you should go around judging books by their cover!” they sound way too cheerful for the scolding to work, though.

[hedgebud]

prodigywriter‌:

No lucky break on her part, huh. Well, luck was never her thing— and they remind her of him, a bit, like that, so she’s hardly surprised to see movement closer to her from her peripherals. It’d be easy to push them off the bench, if she was really bothered by it, but for now she’ll let them be.

A roll of her eyes accompanies that statement; they really don’t have a sense of awareness of themself, do they? A soft hmph, and a grumble of, “You really don’t get it, do you? You’re th-the kind of person who’d start talking in a library, I bet.” She has half a mind to tell them to hush in a much harsher manner, but, well. Still, Toko eases up on them a little when they take an interest in her writing— only a little though, she doesn’t doubt they’re only asking to use it against her. Make fun of her, or something; you can’t trust that kindness to be entirely genuine. “Is that supposed to be an insult? I would never stoop so low…I can’t stand that stuff. They just report on the kind of stuff that catches people’s eyes, n-n-not bothering if they’ve got all their facts straight or not— some of it is more fitting in a gossip column than a newspaper article!” Alright, maybe her distaste might come from a bit of a personal place, but really: if you were going to write fiction, write it and be proud, dammit! 

That aside, she doesn’t mind setting the record straight by correcting them about what she’s actually doing. “…Anyways, this isn’t for the news. I’m just taking notes about what’s going on, for m-my own sake. Nothing that interesting.” Technically not incorrect..especially Future Foundation makes her write up a report on it when she gets back home, but she doubts that this would stir up much interest for them. Probably. Given that she’s yet to hear a lick about despair here, she think she’s probably safe from that, but that’s not saying much.

Whatever. She doesn’t mind humoring this kind of aimless conversation— between that and her writing, you can almost pretend like the situation doesn’t bother you. Almost.

a little frown crosses their face, more thoughtful than upset. “isn’t that okay? talking in a library? i mean, when i go to the library it’s usually because someone important asked me to come, and they start talking first, so it’s okay for me to answer them, right?” oh, yeah, okay. they’ve missed the point, which shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone.

but they listen to her with rapt attention--they’ve never met an writer, or not one who took such pride in the fact, and it’s all kinds of fascinating to them. “well.. maybe you could write better news if everyone else is getting it wrong! especially if you’re seeing it all first-hand out here in the world like this... y’know...? you can write about the monsters for all the people who are too scared to come outside.”

a pause. they pull their knees up, hug them to their chest, as if stopping their feet from kicking restlessly will soothe the thrum of nervous energy. “...are you okay, by the way? being out here on your own with everything that’s going on?” so much for idle conversation--but they’re worried about her, really. they’re worried about everyone. they’ve never been able to help it. “if you wanna go home i can walk with you. i promise i can protect you.”

[hedgebud]

vinsfari‌:

  His fate is sealed. At the first sign of insistence, Thorfinn had intended to turn the kid down again and be on his way, but he did not anticipate for them to take his hand – and although he winced at the feeling, the other’s touch, devoid of hatred and malice, was so transparently gentle that he did not feel the reflex to pull away. “ Hey, I told you I don’t– ”

But with the pot now pressed into his palm, he stared holes into the little sprout as the other spoke, his demeanor much like he had never even seen something like budding plant before.

“ A botanist? ” With his one free hand, he scratches the back of his head in a manner as if doing so would jostle an old memory and remind him of what meaning the word held– but to no avail. Contextually, he supposed the other to be some type of farmer. 

Eyes drifting back to the sprout, natural curiosity began to bloom in mind. “ … Uh, so this is a… begonia. ” The word sounded odd and foreign on his tongue, the syllables pronounced quite clumsily compared to the botanist’s natural cadence. “ It looks… weak. Is it supposed to look like this? ”

“a botanist, yeah! i grow and know about all sorts of plants! i’ve been all over the world and seen all the green things that can possibly grow--so i know my stuff!” they can hardly contain their enthusiasm, bouncing in place on the balls of their feet so their cloud of green hair floofs around their head on every drop; they might not understand much in life, but their knowledge of plants more than makes up for it, they think.

he doesn’t sound--certain, his gaze fixed on the little sprout. hedge stretches up on tiptoes, like the plant will have transformed since they handed it over--then he nods, decisive, settling back onto their heels with a little huff of breath. “well, it’s still young, that’s all! didn’t you look a little weak when you were still just a sprout? you need to give it some love and care, and water and sunlight, and when it gets a bit bigger you give it some more room to grow...”

the smile they direct at the other is softer, sympathetic. “if you really don’t know how to do any of this then i can show you. i promise it’s easy. it’s the easiest thing in the world.”

[hedgebud]

hoshizio‌:

@hedgebud​ ❤︎’d!!

  He can’t at all say he’s used to this, even with his experience with the paranormal. Sure, it’s like the Dark Hour in that there’s the ever-present danger of being attacked by some sort of monster, and there’s the endless darkness and general feeling of dread… but without the rest of SEES, it’s just weird.

  No time to feel sorry, though. Not when there are people who need help! As he continues on what he’d like to think of as a patrol, he happens across a little boy and there’s no time like the present to save the day. “Hey there, kid… it’s not safe to be out here on your own, you know. C’mon, let’s find somewhere with more people.”

it’s not the first time they’ve fought voidsent. and, sure, usually if there’s voidsent there’s some kind of preamble, like a voidgate, or at the very least someone smarter than them at their shoulder telling them hey, maybe we should do something about this voidsent. but the creatures that have been spotted around the city--well, what else could they be? and what else is a warrior of light to do than put a stop to their dark ministrations?

--which is what has them out in the dark, brandishing a stick they’d found in the park earlier that day like it’s a deadly weapon. sure, it’s not exactly a spear, or a conjurer’s cane, but if they shove it at someone hard enough it’ll probably do some kind of damage. it also means they’re in Danger Mode--so when they hear a strangers voice they whirl around in an instant, holding their stick in a proper lance pose. “huh? i know it’s not safe, i’m out here protecting people! you should be back at home where there aren’t any voidsent!”

ah, yes. the standoff begins.

[hedgebud]

hadplans‌:

“I’m what? Thank you?” 

Netzach hasn’t been paying attention. That’s about the usual for them, given their propensity to just launch their psyche directly into space. So, when a complement rings out, Netzach looks left and right, realizes they’re the person being spoken to, and then spits that out. 

Eventually though, they do catch up to everything, holding up their hands and trying to make the ‘it’s fine’ gesture as coherently as they can manage. It’s the shaky hand motion, right? They can’t really remember the details of it. 

“My hair?” Netzach wraps several strands around their fingers. “I used to dye it, but it’s just like this permanently now.” Likely because of the changes to their form. It was one of the few benefits they had found from their placement in a robotic shell. “I uh, I guess I brush it. Sometimes.” It’s currently in a braid, half undone at the end in their effort to hide the tangles from not brushing it. Or owning a brush, for that matter. 

They take a better look at the other, before brightening up somewhat, and making yet another blunt observation.

“You’re green too. Cool.” 

hedge weathers their attempts to behave like a regular person with unrelenting charm, the smile that settles neatly on their face not shifting an inch at the vague gestures, the stopping and starting. they’ve met their fair share of strange people in their line of work, after all, plenty of whom are far stranger than this person--the jolly green giant here is at the very least shaped like a hyur. so that’s a point in their favor.

“hey, mine’s permanent too! i tried to dye it once but it just turned really crispy... like dead leaves. so i had to stop.” they sound very serious about the dead leaves part. “but i think being green is pretty good even if it means people ask you about it all the time.”

“did you grow it out all this way yourself? how long did it take?” the conjurer skips around them to get a better view of the braid, squinting up. “i’m just wondering if i should grow it too or if it’ll take forever and i’ll get bored and cut it off again and...”

a pause.

“i’m hedge by the way! nice to meet you!”

[hedgebud]

excessivelyalive‌:

@hedgebud​ liked for a starter

If someone thought this was an acceptable whip, they’re an idiot. This is far from it, an annoyance at best. A prop knife would have made for a better intimidation factor, and so, Miriam is steaming and grumpy as she leans against a wall and loiters in the period of time it takes her to stop being so worked up about it. Red in the face, she leans back into the wall, and takes a few slow, deep breaths, trying to calm herself down before she screams.

Screaming would attract attention. As much as she’d like to throw a fit, this isn’t the compound, and there is no Katherine or Tabi or Bruno to stay her angry hand. 

Instead, she goes for a more well known tactic. Fidgeting with the colorful bandages around the three middle fingers on her left hand, she clears her throat and removes herself from being boneless against the wall. 

“Hey darling,” it’s a sleepy greeting, Miriam wiggling her fingers at the other. 

“Is there a corner store around here? I’m going out of my mind and I’d kill for a smoke.” 

nobody ever seems happy to be here, and hedge can’t quite understand it. sure, most people aren’t as used as he is to being dragged from one place to the next and thrust into conflicts they barely understand, but--but isn’t this a brilliant opportunity if nothing else? they’ve met so many interesting people here, seen all sorts of strange and wonderful things--as much as they miss home, they’re glad that the powers-that-be chose them.

this is all to say that when they see someone clearly struggling they can hardly help but stop and attend to them; if they’re upset, the least he can do is make them feel welcome. and this woman isn’t instantly turning them away, so hedge is going to take that as a good sign.

“um--we have a really big market if that counts!” ‘corner store’ isn’t a term they’re familiar with, but they’re happy to ignore it. “they probably sell something you can smoke if you ask nicely--do you want me to show you where? actually we’re really close, you don’t even have to go out of your way--”

[hedgebud]

panwati‌:

@hedgebud​

      “Aw, nuts, did I get lost?” She shouldn’t have been– her sense of direction was one of her better traits. Granted, she knew she had to be close to the place she was looking for, or else the name she sees as she peeks at the street sign above, wouldn’t be so familiar. Turning in place to reorient herself, she feels her eyes widen, nearly tripping over the curb as she skids to a halt. “Lord mercy,” she mumbles to herself and then looks around before spotting a small figure and leaning over to question them, brows arching. “Scuse me, am I imaginin’ things, or is that a God blessed D*nny’s ‘cross the street?”

the conjurer blinks up at her in perfect silence. one blink. two. three. and then they tip their head in total confusion, a beatific smile on their face. sure, they almost never know what’s going on in life, but this is a new level of bewilderment.

“what’s a d*nny’s? well, i mean, that’s a d*nny’s obviously but i’ve never seen one before--” they cut their chatter off, turn to squint at the building. “what do you do there? is it fun? can you show me?”

[hedgebud]

prodigywriter‌:

@hedgebud​ ♡’d for a starter

It’s been a little while since she’s really had the chance to put pen to paper— days in Towa City are long and don’t always leave her with the time nor energy to really write ( not that anything like deadlines have ever been of concern to Toko, so as long as she has ideas to work with ). Nor is it really among her top priorities here, so it makes sense that what she’s currently working on aren’t so much story ideas, as much as they are observational notes about this place: not just for her own sake, but theirs too…provided Jack can be bothered to take the time to read the notes she leaves behind for them.

Voice isn’t quite grating, but just a tad too cheery for a dreary girl like herself; not quite the company she prefers keeping as lips purse and teeth grind. A little…too good for you, she thinks, there’s a kind of light in their eyes that reminds her of someone else’s hope. They are a tolerable presence at best, but probably not too helpful to her tasks. “I’m b-busy right now, y’know.” Toko insists, a sort of gentle prodding to get them to move on from someone like her: though some part of her has probably already begrudgingly accepted that she’s probably not going to get off the hook with an excuse like that. “…If you make it quick, I’ll hear you out, at least.”

unsurprisingly, being gently brushed off like this doesn’t dissuade them at all. the look on her face is hardly inviting, the tone of her voice a not-so-subtle hint that they should be on their way, but hedge doesn’t budge; if anything, she gives them an inch and they take a mile, hopping up onto the bench beside her with a little oof of effort.

“you can just ignore me if you want!” yeah, like that’s going to happen with them chirping in her ear. “but i was curious what you were writing! and i haven’t seen you around here before, are you new? oh, are you a--journal-list?” they have to fish for the word, say it wrong anyway. “are you writing about the news?”

and considering, considering how things are going in terra right now, between the darkness and the beasties, there’s surely no shortage of news to report on. neither of them should be out, most likely, but what other choice do they have? shut themselves up in their apartments and wait out the apocalypse?

yeah, no chance.

[hedgebud]

ahogethief‌:

now he was about ninety percent sure that his was just a very small person and not a child. probably good that he didn’t lead with hey, are you lost? and inevitably make a fool out of himself. there was still plenty of time for him to embarrass himself, though; Titus Ram was clever and he knew a thing or two about wild plants, but…flowers? he always needed some refreshing on them.

“That’s the purple one, right?” he asks, as if there was only one kind of purple flower in the world. “Can’t really say that I’ve seen it, but I haven’t been around for long yet. You plannin’ on actually making a bouquet? I wouldn’t mind helpin’ you look for it, if you want.”

“hmmmm,” they say, like it’s a decisive response instead of just a filler noise. the conjurer stares back down at the flowers, up at the stranger, back at the flowers, up again--they feel a little dizzy. “it’s purple and tall and bushy and bees like it... y’know?” very helpful, hedge, thanks.

“i just want to grow some of my own is all--the smell is meant to relax you and i think that maybe i could grow it and then make little pot pourri things for people.” they pronounce it like pot pourey. “if being here makes them nervous.” the explanation carefully leaves out the part about homesickness. “so... so if you want to then we can look together, and i’ll make you one too.”

[hedgebud]

revoltions‌:

       oh, that sure got a laugh out of him. he doesn’t laugh condescendingly though  — in fact, aoi is genuinely amused ( and truly amazed ).  they’ve already got their own problems and now they want to help with his ? talk about selfless. however, after dedicating nearly all of his life following along with whatever his sister’s seen… well, asking for outside help seems more trouble than it’s worth. they’ve been fine… mostly, anyway. ❝ nah, i think we got shit handled… probably. ❞ 

    but that’s enough talking about ends of worlds and people to chase down. what really catches aoi’s attention is how confident hedge is in simply ‘standing far away.’ ❝ but, for real ? you really think that’d work ? what if it comes barreling towards you ? you’re fuckin’ tiny hedge. i dunno how fast you can run, but that shit’d close the gap in like two steps. ❞ 

“probably!” they seem to take that admission of uncertainty completely the wrong way, hopping in place and putting their fist up like they’re trying to psych him up, or something. “that’s the spirit and i believe in you one hundred percent!”

his questions do make them falter, briefly; they’d just tended to accept these things as a fact of life, that unless hedge did something spectacularly stupid then they’d always be safe from the big baddies. “well... i mean... they’re always really focused and mad at whoever’s standing in front of them, so they just... don’t come running at me?” they shrug, helpless. it’s the world’s worst explanation of tanking. “i dunno, it just works, and here i am all not dead! don’t you have someone like that, some kinda big guy who all the monsters get really mad at?”

[hedgebud]

@hadplans​

“you’re beautiful...!”

it just sort of--slips out, and as soon as hedge realises what they’ve said they’re quick to clap a hand over their mouth--but the damage is done, and no amount of self-silencing can hide the awed gleam in wide eyes as they stare up up up at the tallest person they’ve seen since coming here.

“i’m sorry--” their voice is muffled through their fingers, their free hand coming up to tug at their own hair as if they’re suddenly self-conscious about their minty mop. “but i mean it! your hair is so nice and so green and does it take a lot of work to brush it? do you ever tie it up or put flowers in it?”

the question ‘can i put flowers in it?’ goes unsaid, but it’s clear enough from the way they’re all but vibrating in place with bottled-up energy.

[hedgebud]

notyourxprey‌:

“Oh, i doubt he’d like me more than you. I’m just a new thing in a sea of newness.” A soft laugh from Yui as she began to lavish gentle pets along the soft wool!! She peered down upon the sheep and made sure that her fingers didn’t venture anywhere near the mouth of Rho.

She didn’t want to be seen as a threat after all. Or like she was trying to steal the apple back. That would be foolish!

“How are you adjusting to this new world? It’s not the worst

the sheep keeps trying to tip its head back, snuffling at yui’s outstretched arm. nope, it definitely doesn’t think she’s a threat, just a new pal. a new pal who gives rho more treats than hedge does.

“oh... well, y’know, i’m used to going to all sorts of different places, so this isn’t too strange to me.” they don’t sound certain at first, their gaze fixed on rho’s back and their brow crinkled ever so slightly, but then they smile back up at her like there’s nothing wrong with this whole situation at all.

“i think that i was brought here for a reason, so if i can help someone then that’s all i care about! i want to make sure everyone here is safe and happy before i have to go.”

[hedgebud]

vinsfari‌:

  Even after being in this land for a while, there remained a lot of room for adjustment and for learning, as he could find something new and foreign each day if he looked for it – but to an extent, that is the opposite of what he endeavored to do, finding the novelty of all Terra had to offer too overwhelming to deal with.

However, there were some things he could not avoid encountering, mostly as a product of the open and lively culture exhibited by the city’s residents. On his way out for the day, he heard the voice call to him before he noticed the tiny presence positioned outside the complex, and his gaze travels down, down, down to see a small … child, not even reaching his hip, holding a pot up to him.

… It’s better not to ask by this point.

“ I don’t need something like that… ” But his eyes are trained on the potted sprout regardless, his mind wandering to thoughts of home, where plants could not easily grow. “ Besides, I don’t know how to care for it. It wouldn’t last long if you gave it to me. ”

oh, thorfinn, your hesitation here will be your downfall. sure, he said no to begin with, but the doubt in his voice is enough to make hedge beam up at him with fresh resolve. it’s time for some good old persuasion--or, in the conjurer’s case, a special brand of relentless enthusiasm that can make anyone give in to the pressure.

they hold the pot up even higher, bouncing on the balls of their feet. “i think it would be very happy with you! begonias are so easy to take care of and they add such a nice color to a room!”

hedge hops up another step, trying to find a better angle--and then they take his hand, pressing the little pot into his palm. “here, i promise you won’t be able to mess it up, and if you’re worried still then i can teach you myself! i know an awful lot about raising plants! i’m a botanist,” they say proudly, puffing out their chest as much as they can manage (not much).

c’mon, thorfinn. live a little.

[hedgebud]

i’ve been having a hard time trying to think about my characters lately and it has been extremely stressing me out so i am trying to cure it by: stealing the questions from the headcanon meme i reblogged over the weekend and answering them all of my own accord. does this defeat the purpose? sure, but it feels kinda nice. under the cut: many odd hedge factoids

voice?

fitting their short stature and cheerful nature, they have the voice of a teen boy who’s just about to go through puberty. he’s so sure. it’ll be any day now. more chirpy than grating, thankfully, it has a tendency to crack when hedge gets too agitated. additionally, hedge cannot sing worth a damn. if they’re just humming then it’s passable, but something about putting words to music just messes them up.

sleeping habits?

irregular catnaps on any flat surface. also like a cat, they try to climb up as high as they can before they conk out. they never seem to get enough sleep, rarely more than five hours a night, but it doesn’t seem to bother them at all. more of a starfish than a snuggler.

texting habits?

every text is at least two sentences smushed together, which is also just how they talk. no punctuation, only ever capitalises the first letter of the message. if they lose their train of thought halfway through typing, they’ll still send the incomplete message.

laugh?

steadily-building giggles. some people say it’s endearing. others wish they wouldn’t have so much fun. if they laugh too loud, they’ll clap their hands over their mouth and completely fail to muffle the sound.

writing style?

they write more simplistically than they text; something about settling down to write for a long time makes them extremely restless. their handwriting is surprisingly good, though; probably because they wanted to make all their hand-written plant labels as nice as possible.

time-wasting habits?

hedge is fully capable of sitting in one spot and staring into space for upwards of an hour. if they’re looking at the sky or some flowers, even longer. they’ll also succumb to the foraging instinct any time they’re someplace new.

keeping warm/keeping cool techniques?

cold is much more of a problem for them than heat; even on a bright sunny day, they’ll be dressed in long sleeves and pants. in winter, they’ll be bundled up in coats, scarves, warm hats and earmuffs. this is also one of the few times they’ll make an effort to sleep in an actual bed with blankets.

taste in music/literature?

for music, they prefer something cheerful, with a beat that they can bounce along to. if a song sounds too sad, it’ll really get to them, and they might cry a little; happy folk songs are infinitely preferable. for literature... honestly, they like anything, they just prefer to have someone else read it to them. to be clear: hedge is literate, they just think it’s soothing.

self-care/first-aid habits?

well they’re a white mage so first-aid doesn’t really matter. self-care is anything that involves looking at or caring for plants. few things are more relaxing to them than pulling weeds or preparing seed-beds.

favorite food/eating habits?

their favorite food is anything with mushrooms in it, especially stews. thankfully they eat like a civilised person, even if they have to sit at the kids table. not a picky eater.

nervous habits?

they don’t really feel nervous often; when they do, it shows not in restlessness but in freezing up, like a deer in the headlights. if hedge ever stops fidgeting, or kicking their feet, or doing whatever they do, that’s when you know something’s wrong. they’ll also try and stay quiet, which is extremely out of character for them.

sadness?

hedge feels things very quickly and very powerfully; they tend more towards happiness, but if they have cause to feel genuinely sad, it will overwhelm them. they’ll cry until they’re hollowed out inside, and then they will find a tight space to hide in until their heart regrows. this could take an hour, or a couple of sniffly days. physical comfort helps them recover more quickly.

ideal birthday?

they don’t understand the significance of nameday celebrations but if someone made them a cake they would be over the moon. they would go bonkers in fucking yonkers