( she knows her stuff ! )
☪️ —— ❝ She is quite the beauty, albeit overlooked! Parijata is an Indian coral tree, but the word itself – when written and pronounced a certain way – means descended from, or begotten by. She is planted between heaven — ❞ Bon scoffs abruptly, obscuring a sneer betwixt cupped palms. ❝ — and the Earth. She is the tree of the universe. ❞
Dashed is the topic, waved away by a truant hand. ❝ Oh, but I could go on and on — allow me to instead take heed of your inquiry: those are weeds. Oh, so long ago did we respect the golden blossoms, praised as food, medicine, and even magic… ❞
But now they’re just shithead plants I have to rip out of the fucking garden every day. Fuck me, man.
❝ …so we don’t sell them. But! I’ve plenty, if you don’t mind a simple trade — what is it that you wish for? ❞
" from what you say, i imagine she's a tie to the gods and goddesses themselves and, if i'm getting this expression right, she must be ' a babe ', too. " here there arose a sharp-toothed grin to her face compliments of being able to retain recent lingo.
the kindly florist's passion in her knowledge drew yikes' attention further to her, to the point that she had to remind herself to continue breathing. this young woman lived to speak on the behalf of her floral friends. her's was an understanding of and with the subjects of her fascination ; something the world would benefit from striving for.
with the news that her favored choice was not what she had thought them to be, she let her smile glint on . unrelenting was her love for the graceful nuisances making parting with her strong belief in them out of the question. " look at how pretty they are, though ! they’re the fluffiest ever and they can work magic. that’s, like, nuts ! "
“ there's no minding here, miss. all i want is a few of those and, in exchange, i can give you . . . wait for it . . . “ a quick digging through her pockets ensued before she was able to present a tiny golden bell. “ one of my most valuable possessions. “
