Gela turned to him, stared in his eyes. “Since I can’t go and bask in the sunshine, or dig my feet in the ground and root for a few hours, yes, food will suffice.” she faintly smiled as well.

It took Crys a while to stop looking into her mesmerizing eyes. “Guard!” Gela looked to the door as he did. “Guard, we require food!” After a few moments the lock of the door was opened. Galens wife stepped in and places two plates at the table.

Lukewarm soup an a slice of bread for each.

“Can you even eat that?” Crys looked at her. “I mean those are plants.” Gela looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “You eat other mammals?” Crys nodded. “Then I can eat other plants.” she smiled, reaching for the soup. During their meal they didn’t talk, but thought about how the magistrate said he had believed the florals to be a myth after he had clearly met fungals.

“I miss my home.” Gela woke Crys from his thoughts, after their meal the two had laid down on the bed, No matter how Galens assessment of the situation would turn out the two would spend at least two or three days in that room, or under close guard around town. “Tell me about your home.” Crys turned to her, leaning on his hand, he hoped that she could make him forget about his own loss for a while. Gently smiling she turned to him as well. “We live in houses made of stone, they only have one small room to sleep in, and a small patch for the seedlings, the rest of the time we spent outside. All year long, except in the winter, when the house is often covered with snow.” she seemed to glow in her reminiscence. “Our village has about fifty houses, in autumn when the leaves of the forest the village is located in turn golden and red, so does our hair and our fingernails.” she lifted her hand to reveal dark fingernails, black with a hint of green. “IN spring we turn bright green with the trees, deeply saturated in summer.” she glanced at her nails. “Ever since this autumn I have had this color.” she mumbled falling into sadness. “Normally we stay in the autumnly colors until spring.” Crys placed his hand on hers. “You won’t become a slave.” he vowed, holding her hand tightly.

Gently smiling she returned the tight grip, softly pressed her cheek against his fingers. “I have you to thank for everything in the last day and night.” she looked from his hand back to his eyes. For a moment Crys thought he saw her blushing as her cheeks seemed to turn golden from within. “You should rest, we can explore the village tomorrow.” he whispered, afraid he might be blushing.

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