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The air is yet a little chill, but the sun streams brightly enough to make up for it. This dream starts between the roots of a great tree-- too wide around for five men to circle it with their arms, and even half a dozen would have to stretch. Its branches start low, arching and splitting and reaching to claw the clear sky, as brilliantly blue as it ever has been. They're still largely bare, neither leaf nor bud, but the scent of life is in the air. The soil beneath your feet is dark and rich, a few bedraggled strands of half-dead grass interspersed with the shadows of branches.
A little distance away, where the sun streams unhindered, a riotous crowd of flowers is starting to rise. Crocuses of every color, the blinding green of new growth on low bushes, the heady scent of lilac. Daffodils stretch their yellow maws toward the sun. A hundred thousand other wildflowers creep along the withered grass and claw their way out of the earth, some seasonable and others not; some familiar, others strange. The further from the tree, the greater the quantity; soon enough your line-of-sight fails, blocked out by the rising curtain of wild color. There is, for all intents, nothing in the distance.
And now, perhaps, you might notice a splash of color on the tree. Hanging from a low branch is a crown of twigs and dry branches, twined with a rose vine which trails down to root in the earth. These flowers, too, are in luscious bloom; the petals are colored a pale green, their perfume delicate but oddly energizing.
The roots and branches, over here, are gently sloped and close together. If you squint, they almost form a staircase, winding its way up and around the tree...
[ooc; separate threads will be considered separate incidents with different people, unless otherwise arranged, and will pan out differently for everyone <3 No continuity expected and OPEN to ALL comers. Extremely backdating friendly!]
[Community Post]
A little distance away, where the sun streams unhindered, a riotous crowd of flowers is starting to rise. Crocuses of every color, the blinding green of new growth on low bushes, the heady scent of lilac. Daffodils stretch their yellow maws toward the sun. A hundred thousand other wildflowers creep along the withered grass and claw their way out of the earth, some seasonable and others not; some familiar, others strange. The further from the tree, the greater the quantity; soon enough your line-of-sight fails, blocked out by the rising curtain of wild color. There is, for all intents, nothing in the distance.
And now, perhaps, you might notice a splash of color on the tree. Hanging from a low branch is a crown of twigs and dry branches, twined with a rose vine which trails down to root in the earth. These flowers, too, are in luscious bloom; the petals are colored a pale green, their perfume delicate but oddly energizing.
The roots and branches, over here, are gently sloped and close together. If you squint, they almost form a staircase, winding its way up and around the tree...
[ooc; separate threads will be considered separate incidents with different people, unless otherwise arranged, and will pan out differently for everyone <3 No continuity expected and OPEN to ALL comers. Extremely backdating friendly!]
[Community Post]
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