Thanny
The Destined Undestined
"That is true. These look more crafted than manufactured. Credit to the elf as well."
Anisa looked about, smiling at the planters. Perhaps barrels would be good for the herbs she hoped to grow in the future. Grains and other ground-based plants, however, she hoped to keep in long, lovely rows.
She grinned at the thought of a dwarf doing the barrel-making for her previous idea, smithing long bands of iron or steel to rim them. Perhaps he had a Scottish accent like Tolkien and others had predicted? But maybe that is not what a dwarf or even an elf would be likened to.
"I certainly have plans for this garden. I did not take those classes for no reason, even if I did not expect them to be for myself."
Her head readjusted to Emily, mouth opening and closing as if hesitant to ask something. Finally, she asked.
"Something has been bothering me for a bit. When did the garden or the fields get so overrun, and I was not privy to this but . . . when did my uncle pass away? What did the others do to combat these odd plants? If I did not know any better, it seems as if a hex was laid down on this place with the state of these vines." She shook her head. "I am sorry; this has been on my mind for a while."
Anisa looked about, smiling at the planters. Perhaps barrels would be good for the herbs she hoped to grow in the future. Grains and other ground-based plants, however, she hoped to keep in long, lovely rows.
She grinned at the thought of a dwarf doing the barrel-making for her previous idea, smithing long bands of iron or steel to rim them. Perhaps he had a Scottish accent like Tolkien and others had predicted? But maybe that is not what a dwarf or even an elf would be likened to.
"I certainly have plans for this garden. I did not take those classes for no reason, even if I did not expect them to be for myself."
Her head readjusted to Emily, mouth opening and closing as if hesitant to ask something. Finally, she asked.
"Something has been bothering me for a bit. When did the garden or the fields get so overrun, and I was not privy to this but . . . when did my uncle pass away? What did the others do to combat these odd plants? If I did not know any better, it seems as if a hex was laid down on this place with the state of these vines." She shook her head. "I am sorry; this has been on my mind for a while."