|
Post by Alexander Lionheart on Mar 25, 2013 10:57:56 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,10,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; padding: 5px, bTable][cs=2] I WILL RIDE, I WILL FLY chase the wind and touch the sky | N ow that the goats had been fed, Alexander was finally ready to inspect the dirt. The sun had finally peeked out from behind the clouds, and there was less frost than there had been in the past few weeks. He had learned a little about gardening since he arrived at the Base, but he knew about the dangers of frost in the spring. Despite all that, he still needed to properly till and plow the garden and prepare the dirt. Some of the other gardeners had already started, but it was his turn to finish it. The boy rolled up his sleeves and jumped over the goat’s fence. His favorite goat bleated at him, strutting right up to the fence. Alexander chuckled and shook his head at her, “Later, Clementine! I’ll be back later!”Dutifully, the boy crouched over the dirt and inspected it. He had quite a bit of work to do if they wanted the root plants soon. Frowning, he checked his small gardening pouch and recalled the two plants his senior gardener had told him about. They needed to start growing turnips, beets, or carrots—none of which sounded particularly delicious. Unless they were in a thick, warm stew... Alexander heard his stomach growl. He had to focus! He eagerly went to the fence and grabbed the small, rickety spade. Alexander heard from another gardener that a long time ago, animals sometimes pulled an even bigger machine called a “plow” in order to till large fields. The idea seemed strange. It must have saved on time, but Alexander didn’t mind tilling the soil by himself. It gave him a job to do, didn’t it? The boy half-jogged to the unfinished row of dirt and started preparing it. The spade still felt foreign in his hands—he looked forward to the day when gardening became second-nature to him. For now, he was still painfully a novice. Alexander crouched in the dirt and began digging in the soil, making a neat bed for the seeds. He had a feeling that he was going to be there for quite a long time, doing all that by himself. He wished he had brought something to keep his long bangs out of his face. Without thinking about it, he began to hum a tune to himself. He wasn’t sure if he made it up or if he remembered it from somewhere, but he liked the sound of it. | [atrb=vAlign,top]TAGS dark w/ dryad WORDS 406 NOTES lolz, I hope this is ok |
|
|
|
Post by Dryad Redleaf on Mar 31, 2013 19:14:24 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,410,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #F2F2F2; border-top: 5px solid #7dd769; border-bottom: 5px solid #7dd769;][STYLE=margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom:-13px; margin-right: 50px; text-align:right; font-size:20px; font-family: courier new; text-transform: uppercase; color: #67b156; text-shadow: 0.1em 0em 0.1em #432424;]I THOUGHT YOU WANTED ME[/style][STYLE=margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom:-50px; margin-right: 10px; text-align:right; font-size:12px; font-family: courier new; text-shadow: 0.1em 0.1em 0em #432424; text-transform: uppercase; color: #d94a6e;]'CAUSE I WANT YOU ALL TO MYSELF![/style][STYLE=margin-left: 10px; margin-top: 50px; margin-right: 10px; text-align:center; font-size:9px; font-family: georgia; color: #F2F2F2; border-top: 5px dotted #d94a6e;] --[/style][STYLE=font-size:9px; font-family: arial; margin-left:15px; width: 300px; height: 250px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; background-color: #F7F7F7; border-top: 4px solid #d94a6e; border-bottom: 4px solid #d94a6e; padding: 8px; color: #6E6E6E;]Apparently she was such a bad gardener that everyone agreed she shouldn't even touch a plant. She'd been at the Base for a few weeks, but she still hadn't magically grown a green thumb. Dryad was good with babies, not seedlings. It was only a matter of minutes before she got bored watching plants grow. Surely they didn't expect her to do this every day? Luckily, it had been decided for her that Dryad would take charge of the chickens. Some of the other gardeners took care of the goats, which was just fine by her. She found the animals' weird sideways pupils eery and unnerving. Plus, they seemed to dislike her for no apparent reason. Chickens she could handle. Unfortunately, once she'd fed and watered them, there wasn't much to do. The coop only got cleaned once or twice a week. Dryad had spent the last three days watching the plants grow, even though she wasn't allowed to touch them. Today, though, there was something exciting to occupy her. A clutch of chicks were finally healthy and large enough for her to touch and play with. They were nothing but little balls of brown and yellow fluff. They were far more breakable than a human baby, but the hens had very little mothering instinct for the little chickens. The rooster occasionally pecked at them like he might try and eat them, and Dryad had to chase him off. It wasn't much, but this was far better than stupid plants. Dryad heard a sound behind her and looked over her shoulder. The golden-haired boy was fussing over the dirt, digging it into rows. She'd seen him around plenty, mostly taking care of the goats, but she'd never actually been introduced to him. At a glance, she could tell he'd be handsome when he got a little older, but for now he looked more like a eager-eyed child. Dryad missed playing with children. She decided to go introduce herself, even if they were both supposed to be working. She didn't trust the rooster not to have a go at the chicks again, so she gathered up the ends of her shirt and set the little fluff balls carefully in the pouch created. Luckily her shirt was too long on her; even stuffed with chicks, it only showed off a tiny bit of her stomach. She used the gate instead of climbing over the fence and walked over to where the boy was humming to himself. "Hi, there," she said brightly, and couldn't help from adding, "That looks boring." [/style] MADE BY KIWII OF BTN & OTE |
[/size] [/center][/td][/tr] [tr][td][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|