#coirë

[leucisticpuffin]

coirë | a stirring

“Thou callest this season beautiful,” he said one morning, watching shadows shift through the canvas as an attendant cleared the doorway of snow. “Forgive me, but I cannot see it.” “But thou hast seen it not,” protested Findekáno, setting aside his mortar and pestle. (The skill of preparing medicines he had picked up in the fearful days of the last winter, needing desperately to be useful, and yet unable to look at the wound wrought by his own hand.) “Not everywhere is so grey! Come, Russandol; I shall show thee why we name it so.”

Read the whole story on AO3

[leucisticpuffin]

For the word game: flower?

From we will make this place our home, a lesson in botany:

“What’s this flower?” I would ask, pointing to a little plant with small white flowers and heart-shaped seedpods, and Linher told me it was called shepherd’s purse; or a taller plant growing on the roadside with long feathery leaves and heads of creamy-white flowers – that was yarrow, and Linher said there were old stories about it healing wounds made by iron; or a plant like a nettle with circlets of pink flowers – that was red dead-nettle, and quite harmless.

And from my other WIP, coirë:

“Look, Russo,” he exclaimed suddenly, leaning forward. “Even here there are flowers!”

New shoots surrounded the slender trees; bladelike leaves pushed bravely up to colour the bank green – and, yes, there were flowers: delicate petals of ice-white, suspended like hanging lanterns upon finely-wrought stems.    

It was not a surprise to learn that his uncle’s people held them dear, the first promise of winter’s ending; but it was the flower’s tenacity that struck Russandol.

(there are more but these are the best ones i think)

Thanks for the ask :)