The dry leaves of the oaks crunched as he padded along in the quiet of the early morning. Dawn had just arrived, and the forest had yet to fully awaken. The Virens had always been more somber and solemn than the other wild places on the continent. It was no surprise that a tracker like him would find some well-needed peace and quiet. Being who he was, living in crowded cities was suffocating. He didn't mind the folk, but the smells and sounds were overpowering. Maybe it was his age catching up to him. He was now older than fifty. Earlier on the edge of the forest he had caught wind of a stag. As soon as it saw him, it bounded into the trees egging him on to give chase. But he wasn't going to blindly rush in after it. Only young pups did that sort of thing.

The scent of the stag was growing faint, and he was starting to feel the disorienting devilry that this forest was known for. Walter was a patient man, and he didn't worry. Sooner or later he'd catch up to it. A new scent started wafting from downwind, a distinctly strong floral fragrance. It couldn't be the wildflowers; even a whole meadow couldn't carry such a strong aroma in the dim woodland. Curious, he followed it to a tunnel formed out of weathered rock and intertwined roots. It must be coming from whatever was behind it. The scent was ten times stronger now. Ducking in, he pushed away a curtain of trailing ivy and moss to a surprising sight. A hidden glade tucked away in the heart of the shady trees. A patch not obscured by the canopy created a small contained meadow with new sprouts coming out from the soil. Finding a spot free of moss, he sat down and heard faintly the sound of…singing?

Her voice sang through the growing leaves. Magic pulsed from her fingertips as she caressed a mighty branch in her hands. All around her the tunnel began to spring to life. Though it was in a smaller radius than that of Lady Angela it was still beautiful. Even the grass beneath her bare feet had sprung to life. Beautiful bell flowers of blue and purple were hanging down from the tunnel as it fully bloomed. Winter’s harsh feat was nearly erased from it.

Shayla was beautiful even by most woman’s terms. Her long flowing winter hair clashed against the rich earthly tones around her. Her kimono was grand in cream and blue silk but the most enchanting part of it was the animated willow coming to life on the fabric. Brown and green eyes scanned the area around her. “No more need to be hurting now… It is alright.”

There was a rich humming in the air as the plants sang back to her. It was more like the summer had come early as the bees woke up and came out to fetch the pollen from the flowers. “Spring will be in full swing soon.”

He must be dreaming. Despite years of living in the wilds and sleeping without a roof over his head, it was a sight that left him awestruck. A druid, or a dryad? Few could bring life to the earth in such a way. Here he was, a man reaching his sixth decade standing speechless like a whelp. Walter had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't seeing things. It was like Terra itself had come in physical form. "Spring will be in full swing soon." The woman said. Her voice was enchanting, like a songbird's. As greenery overtook the glade, the browns and greys of his clothing made him stand out like an odd rock on the shore. He didn't know what to say. What could he say? It was as if he had been rendered mute.

The familiar fragrance returned him to his senses. It was all through the air now. Perhaps…she was the source? It was fresh despite being floral. Not even the most sought-after perfume essences could compare. Once something was picked, it didn't smell the same. Almost as if a bit of life had left it in that moment. His moment of rapture was broken when he heard the sound of buzzing. Mildly panicking, he flinched as the bees flew about, hitting his foot on a gnarled root. He let out a pained grunt as he grabbed his boot. When he was a boy he thought himself clever and tried to knock down a beehive for some honey. Being young as he was, he had to stand fairly close in order to get a clear shot. The aftermath was bad enough that he was in pain for weeks, and jumped at the slightest sound of insects' buzzing. He'd learned how to differentiate the sounds, but it was still an unpleasant spot of his past he didn't like revisiting.

Shayla had seen a lot in all of her years. From the beautiful Land of the Blue Sun to the horrific fires of the God Slayer War. She had loved and been loved. Her eyes had watched as her beloved died fighting to save his land and then she had been burned and chopped down. Her wood used to make weapons that would shed blood. The biggest thing on her mind though was the gold and earthly light that had encased her as Angela had pulled her out of the soul stream. It was such an odd thing. It made her love life more where others would hate it.

“Oh no,” her voice rang out as she heard the noise of someone being hurt. It seemed a little uneasy more like she didn’t know what she was supposed to say. It was so scripted yet… To her it was natural. This was the way humans spoke, wasn’t it? Picking up the silk fabric she swept over the grass and gracefully fell down onto her knees by him. Her eyes were glued to his hand now as she took it in her own. One hand was a pristine porcelain colored hand while the other was horribly burned. Taking a cloth from her pocket she tied it tightly around his wound but not enough to hurt him.

Her eyes met his and for a moment it was a very odd feeling for her. It was the way he was looking at her almost like he could see past her. Like he could see her soul. Her lips quivered a bit before they opened to ask if he was alright. However, before she could ask him her body turned into luscious rose petals that whirlwind around him as if she had never been there.

She blinked in confusion to find her matron goddess in front of her. “Shayla I got a job for you sorry to pull you in like that. It’s urgent.”

Suddenly she was beside him, and tending to his injuries. He was still half-thinking this couldn't be real, and noticed something that alarmed him. When she had been at a distance he didn't see, but now he saw that one of her hands was terribly burnt. It was awful, and he couldn't imagine what this woman had gone through to be injured this badly. She might have read his thoughts, as their eyes suddenly met. They both looked back at each other, hesitating. Then, in a blink of an eye she vanished…leaving rose petals drifting to the ground where she once was. The soft chirping of birds was all he heard as he blinked to himself. Was it a dream? Looking down at his hand, he saw the cloth tied around his hand. No, it couldn't be. She had been here, that dryad with the scent like plumeria blossoms.

The sun was now in the sky, bright and clear. "It's already morning…I should head back and report." Picking his way carefully so he wouldn't trip himself up again, he returned to the main path and found a small stone obelisk nestled on the wayside. Placing his hand on it, he was whisked away back across the sea–to Parvpora. The monument was in good shape, and so far all had been well here. Sometimes travelers would pass through this area en route to Adeluna or the north. Bandits were common like voles in places like these, and he would chase them off when he had the chance. There were plenty of honest folk coming around who just wanted to make a living. He wasn't letting a bunch of rats make things harder for them.