i. Flair ✵

000. HENCE, THE FATES WHISPER.

CHAPTER ONE /    𝓲. Moirai do not listen...

Aromas of virgin flowers filled the female's nostrils as she walked across the rows of heterogeneous crops. The bustling area of nature, a magnificent comfort to the eyes of passers by. Forest of dark oaks, their green leafs eaten and picked at by caterpillars. Birds sang and chirped in rejoice as the girl passed close by. The warm rays of the gentle sun casted upon her graceful, and foreboding figure.Unperturbed by sweat and beasts. The warm colors above her head seemed to blend in perfectly. It was as if Zeus himself fabricated the very celestial. She had a joyous grin as her hands were placed upon a pink flower, admiring the scenery around her. The soft petals gently caressing the touch of the gleeful female. The soft touch of the dirt ground that embraced the female's feet, bringing warmth. Her glistening hair which was rolled up into a kind of knot on the crown of the head, and fastened with greenish clasps in the shape of lilacs; youthful and airy, sparse with violet. A sighed would escape her breath as she would walk down the rows of strawberry crops. She kneeled down on the ground, feeling the delicate grasp of Demeter. Little by little, her hands picked at the sweetest crimson-stained fruit. Gentle not pugnacious, the goddess of spring would take notice of her harmed body.

The suns rays caged around her eyes. A brown basket held up above her head, blocking the suns furious rays, casting a shadow over her face. The season was of spring, it was of time to collect blooming crops. Spring came with the company of various bugs, and of course, where there is good, evil will trail along its tail. Flies. Blood sucking insects that would implant their seed against the skin and leave unbearable and itchy red spots. Then there is the good, dreadful flowers now bloomed and swayed along the breeze. Leafs plucked and chewed by tiny insects that placed their nutrients. Spring season also poked complaints. Working in the crop fields, brought lots of maidens to complain that it was either too hot for working, or too windy. [name] would usually, well, occasionally breathe out a few giggles toward her friends childish behavior. Though, it would soon back fire as her friends would grab an apple or any crops near by, and throw them her way. This would catch her by surprise in her first time of working, but now, she soon learned to quickly dodge the attacks sent her way. The throws were usually done by none other than, Ianthe, by which her name means violent. Maybe she gets the trait and temper from her maiden name. Ianthe is hot headed yet, her brown luxurious bouncy hair that is usually braided by her kids, would easily distract anyone from her impatience. Including her husband.