October 18, 2017, 08:39:55 PM
{My understanding of the geography in DV is shaky at best.}
The mesa opens before them, crickets of the forest lost to the whipping of the wind. It riffles Ashtar's thick pelt like feathers, like she could just hop from the cliff-face and fly. "Lottie, don't get too close to the edge," despite the fact she is perched precariously as she says this, looking down on the Valley below. Lotus doesn't need her sister's guidance, but she accepts it all the same. Such a good girl. She'll be such a wonderful warrior. Ashtaroth turns to the flat, sunset a brilliant halo behind her, but the fireflies find Lotus first. "The Red Baishun I've spoken with, she had such interesting facts of history. I do need to ask the Sohei some day."
She trots to meet her sister, observe the rose bushes on top of this cliff, in the shallow soil, meticulously pruned, an inward spiral at even intervals. "The false Rosa I told you about, they're thrown to the tar. That brought me to consider, a Rosa's body is not disposed of in the usual way. Of course not; you wouldn't store a god's bones beside that of their heretic. So, here we are."
Yellow, White, Red, in seemingly unpredictable pattern. She wonders what will happen when they run out of space. Ragnarok, she supposes.
She trots to meet her sister, observe the rose bushes on top of this cliff, in the shallow soil, meticulously pruned, an inward spiral at even intervals. "The false Rosa I told you about, they're thrown to the tar. That brought me to consider, a Rosa's body is not disposed of in the usual way. Of course not; you wouldn't store a god's bones beside that of their heretic. So, here we are."
Yellow, White, Red, in seemingly unpredictable pattern. She wonders what will happen when they run out of space. Ragnarok, she supposes.