Sharon
Up on the tippy tops of the canopies, a.. Little girl dressed in normal, carpenter's uniform would hang her feet down from a sturdy branch. Pinkish eyes swept the surroundings from her current perch, surveying the landscape of Salvania's wilderness with a huff.

Ava decided she was bored and decided to take a hike. Well—watch the woods. Hiking was too much of a *Chore* Out of work. Maybe someone or something would liven her week after tinkering with wooden sculptures?

Or at least, that would be the best case scenario. Besides the permeating smell of tree sap (which, being a Fae, she didn't mind at all) the lass would tuck her wings away using her innate magic before resting her back on the tree; both legs now straightened on the branch.

Briefly, she plucked a leaf out of her short, dusty blonde hair and let it flutter down onto the forest floor. Then craned her neck to pop her joints and yawned.

It *Was* A nice summer day, after all.
Ann
Planting skin skirted across the earthen plain, bare toes pressing against the solid surface whilst hefty braided white hair danced across a petite youths' back. An eager smile swept near eyes' held little life within its' empty grey glow, contrasting his youthful appearance the ancient boy wore tattered robes bearing symbols of a time long lost within the winds that carried his body hurdling forward. Betwixt what remained of the boys' once whole clothing lay a jagged scar its' width splitting across his chest nearly scratching its' sharp claw against his neck a wound which one of the living would not be able to bear a fatal wound which retold the story of the youths' final memories upon the day his eyes' lost all of its' color.

Gleeming within the sunlight an orange substance shone covering the wound which should cease the young lad from sprinting within the realm of the living, an aromatic scent carried from wherever the boy trampled; it nearly smelt as though one were to shove their nose into a vat of a trees' sap its' pungent presence persisted despite all else... Much like the boy whom would not remain perished. Soft a little song crept between the boys' lips as he romped forward his ears' heading to where he heard a distant brook babble "...Twas a pedal that doth fluttered from thine hand... T'would beauty spread thine life cross a dirt covered sea? Or t'would thine leave mine life empty? O' here gentle pedal... I pray pray let thine beauty spread t'would you naught wish to leave thine lost seedling within the harsh dried dirt."

Somber notes sung from a chest where lungs were not; its' tune seemed a mere memory of what it should have sounded like. A haunting whisper of life sung through a nearly preserved corpses' body; within the tune that crept from the pallid ancient youths' lips a song that seemed to entail that of a garden fitting what was tucked within the boys' fists a bundle of vibrant white tulips' that bounced along each step he took heading with purpose within his step. Fore a wise little wolfen spirit had visted the youth within his 'sanctuary' offering him a leaf of wisdom somewhere he could go within a world that seemed to reject the undead youths' presence not wishing to allow him to clasp upon the second chance he was gifted steadily heading past the thicket to where a distant river sang its' own melody seeming to harmonize with the youths' otherworldy voice.
Sharon
A bored fae can spot the walking anomaly from a mile away. Plus the sap smell.. And the haunting tune. Otherwordly, yes, but..

Clearing her throat, Ava would call down from the branch to this deceptive youth. "Can you keep it down? I'm trying to have a good mood and not a funeral, *Thaaaank you*." The fae, a little irritated, would now lean forward with her legs crossed. Good that she was wearing long, sturdy work pants otherwise the splinters would have stuck into her thighs.

"And what's with the flowers and language? What are you, a priest? Some herald? *Poet?*" She'd continue, brow raised in curiosity at this.. 'boy'.
Ann
Sprinting across the wilderness the young boy wasn't 'walking' singing the somber tune betwixt a rather joyful guise, this little child found joy within feeling the simplicity of the earths' sunlight as his song continued to pour from his lips its' tune began to slow into a distant little hum as his tiny hands clasped a bountiful bundle of little white flowers'. Which he hugged against his tattered clothing far from what one would associate a priest wearing; taking a moment to spin upon his heel enjoying the simplicity of the breeze tumble against his pallid white hair; he felt bliss within the trees that pulsed against his spinning heel life... Its' beat seemed to resonate within the youths hallow chest. 

"Yip!" Exclaimed from the short little anomaly as his white eyes' bloomed in full falling flat against the earth below in the midst of his twirl a slight "Urk" Errupted from his throat as his pallid little tulips fluttered across the air, reaching up a arm wrapped within bandages to scratch his fluffy white hair. "T-t-t'would seem... I doth not be alone fore a sloth d-doth tumble mine tune.." The boy grumbled beneath his breath sore from his sudden fall this sudden stranger brought a spark of worry into the youths body, jerking his full whites' upon this lazy sloth whomst interluded his graceful dance. "Hark! I d-d-doth seem to naught be the only one whomst wanders the wild... I doth w-w-wonder why thine believe a rite for thee dead t'would be in pass? Fore I naught come here to mourn... N-n-nay..."

Stuttering

The boys' voice showed uncertainty within this curious little stranger whom sat crooked within the trees brambles. Scars that ran across the boys' body were a sore reminder that he should be wary even if his body sparked to life hoping off of the ground below to stride up toward the tree where she rested; his haunting gaze shone upon her lifting the tulips he grasped to show her, his lips tremoring with a little smile pushing against the youths' pallid face.

Finding her questions a smidge of humor laced within them a merry little chuckle pushed through the boys' lips. "F-flowers' to grace min head like a crown upon a prince... T-t'would be like thine ones mine mother weaved betwixt her fingers." Rappidly the boy shook his head keeping his eyes' closed upon a time his mother would call him her little poet, but he felt not the right to take such tittles "Nay... Nay... Nay if I doth be a priest and you doth a be a ruler the world t'would surely be in need of help... And mayhaps it tis much more joyous to be free from such tittles no?" Keeping his hands outstretched the boy seemed like an eager child excited to play with the flowers he had gathered to lace together a 'crown'... It seemed he hadn't heard her tell him to clearly go away or the youth was a bit slow. "If mine sloth friend... T'would enjoy lacing a crown of thine own it t'would be greater than lazing upon a trees' branch... L-l... Lest m-mine unworthy form doth wish f-for me to hide.." Dimming the boys' eyes' looked away knowing his appearance could be appaling to others' those whom called him a 'monster'.
Sharon
Curious.

Tugging on the collar of her shirt under the worker's apron, she'd let the wind (and a Featherfall spell) carry her down. No need for a show of wings—the Fae decided. The blonde lass would stand not much taller, if at all, compared to the boy.

Though cautious, distance minding, Ava would now be standing in front of this tattered 'young boy'. Scanning his tattered clothing up somewhat close, the pallor, the gait.. Ava blinked once in response. "You're a.. *Quirky* Fellow. I merely jest, *Little prince*." She'd say with a mock bow, following the youth's strange accent. An eyebrow would be raised at the priest comment, herself simply muttering an 'uh-huh..' at what she saw as an attempt at a joke.

Despite her general demeanor and perplexed stare, Ava would grab hold of the tulips offered from those bandaged arms if his. Instead of lacing them together, she'd make them **Grow** Into each other under her grasp—a la rat king. Forming a flower crown nonetheless, despite her absurd methods.

With an amused grin, one hand would hold out the new flower crown over with a shake in her gesture. "Quirky. Here's your crown. You call me Sloth, I call you Quirky, funny man." A light giggle would escape the blonde's lips, a gentle fluttering of hidden wings carried by the wind. "..You're *Lively* For someone who doesn't feel OR look like it! What *Are* You?"