Another hum of thought. Grace imagined herself with long, flowing white leaves, the way Vivilene had. She'd assumed it just... part of the elf's body, really, but she could see herself with cloth draping down to either side, gleaming white. Vague longing took her, a sort of dim desire for such a thing herself--nothing urgent, or greedy, but more a mild wistfulness. "If you ever learn how, I would like that, too," she said, thoughtfully. She couldn't know it, of course, but what she was imagining was more a horse blanket--barding or a horse caparison--than a dress.
Three-toed steps on long legs propelled them slow and steady toward the edge of the White Wood. Grace thought about the rest of what Vivilene had said, too: what if she could do anything? Fly? -Did she want that?
She gave it all due consideration, trying to imagine what Vivilene described with creation, and the concept of flight. But she found that she was content, as she was; happy in her simple, fresh life. Perhaps that would change once she had experienced more, but for now she wanted for nothing.
"That sounds beautiful--creation," Grace said, at last, her tone warmly encouraging. "And maybe you'll be able to do that, some day. Maybe you did, maybe you created some of this water, and these trees, but we just don't know it. Maybe you thought us all into being?" It was as good a theory as any, right now. "As for myself, I don't think I need to fly. I'm happy, dear," and whoops, there it was, the little Grandma word she'd managed to restrain until now. Oh well. "My back doesn't hurt, though. My bones feel weary, but it isn't bad. I think it just means I'll sleep all the better," she added, cheer in her ancient voice.
She couldn't tell how long it had been, but at last there was the distant sight of darker foliage and Grace spoke, peering through the trees. "Is that the Green Forest?" she asked, curiosity in her; she took a deep sniff, trying to discern any new odors. There was a faint musky scent--a fox or something similar, perhaps. But other than that it smelled much the same; of petrichor, rain; of earth and water, trees and grass.
