2020 Self Care Plan

Iris was the word of the day. There was a particular species of bearded Iris that possessed rich, dark purple petals. These petals were quite useful in the creation of dyes for various items. Since Iolaire could craft damn near anything, such dyes were quite useful. Perhaps she would use them to decorate her new cottage. The petals would need to be dried and processed, a task that she was more than used to.

Dainty paws picked their way through the marshy land. She stuck to tussocks of grass as often as possible. Having been born in a land with similar terrain, the tiny woman was quite used to traversing such landscapes. Periodically she would stop, pristine white teeth snapping off the head of a flower here and there. These flowers were then deposited into the bag at her side. The obsidian woman stopped atop a particularly dry mound of grass and seated herself. She took in the quiet, misty surroundings and gave a breathy sigh of pleasure. Solitude was a nice thing at times.

...Then a squelch and a giggle sounded.

Iolaire's solitude seemed to always be interrupted. Casting green and gold eyes towards the sound, she noted the presence of a pale, earthy woman. One silver brow arched slightly and she cleared her throat, alerting the other to her position.