[Horrifyingly embarrassed, she just ignores all that. Especially because she doesn't actually speak to dryads that way, she's used to them just sliding from their trees and smacking her and then streaking off in the most impromptu games of tag ever.
Well, maybe she's just meant to make a point? Speak friend and enter? She can do that. Probably.
Wandering over to a fallen tree, she crouches down next to the gnarled roots. She can't bring it back to life, but she's Roman. They believed in reincarnation, especially in nature: from death comes new life. Her fingers press to the rough bark. Nothing happens for a moment, more silence, until the dead tree cracks and a newborn tree shoots out, skinny and fragile, tiny green leaves pushing out of the branches.]
no subject
Oh.
Of course.
[Horrifyingly embarrassed, she just ignores all that. Especially because she doesn't actually speak to dryads that way, she's used to them just sliding from their trees and smacking her and then streaking off in the most impromptu games of tag ever.
Well, maybe she's just meant to make a point? Speak friend and enter? She can do that. Probably.
Wandering over to a fallen tree, she crouches down next to the gnarled roots. She can't bring it back to life, but she's Roman. They believed in reincarnation, especially in nature: from death comes new life. Her fingers press to the rough bark. Nothing happens for a moment, more silence, until the dead tree cracks and a newborn tree shoots out, skinny and fragile, tiny green leaves pushing out of the branches.]
'sup, little man.