We'll Bring the Shade to Us.

Holding the tree upright the pair are able to maneuver it up and out of the hole. Io has taken time to weave together a mat and the duo place the sapling onto the grass mat. When Iolaire instructs her to help tuck the roots in, Meadow nods and carefully moves the roots that hang over the edges of the mat. When they are all safely inside, they gather the mat around the trunk of the small tree and tie it down. The roots are now protected and not in danger of being torn off or poking anyone in their eye as it is moved.

With gentle, loving care, the two women manage to load the tree onto the cart. As they wait for Ila to return from her little escapade, Iolaire offers her some dried meat. Taking it gratefully, stomach growling its displeasure to her for having skipped lunch, Meadow makes quick work of the food. Listening to her niece as the woman offers her thanks and explains that this will be good for all in the long run, the green-eyed woman grins. Swallowing the last bit of meat, Meadow says, “Thank you for inviting me! I can already see the shade that it will offer.”

Indeed, she could see it all, in her mind’s eye. A glorious, large willow standing in stark relief against the sun, casting its shadow for all to come and find reprieve from the heat. She will spend many hours under those cool arms that sway in the slight breeze. Vibrant green leaves wave at her as she lays on her back, heavy eyes fighting to stay open as the tree calls her to rest her head and let her cares drift away on the breeze. Yes, she can see it.

Iolaire’s voice breaks the illusion of the future she sees and bids her to help find one more tree. It is a birch, the white, peeling bark seems to make Io happy and Meadow knows that this tree will be coming home with them. With a smile and a song in her head they repeat the process. Dig and release. Lift and tuck the roots. Tie and move to cart. Weariness is starting to settle into the woman’s bones and when her niece calls it, saying they should head back, the slightly taller female agrees. There is still work to be done and the sun had reached its zenith and had long since begun its march down the horizon.

They walk, Ila has a bounce in her gait while Meadow feels like she lost the pep in her step. She knows it will return after a good night’s rest but right now a straight line seems like the fastest way to go. When they arrive at the garden Io shows her where to start digging. The prospect of sleep invigorates the woman once more and she makes quick work of the hole. The transferring, covering and watering of the saplings becomes a blur to her tired mind. Only when she bids Iolaire goodnight and thanks her for inviting her to help does her world refocus.

The trip back to her den is not a long one but, to the tired woman, it seems to take hours. When she sinks onto the oxen coat that Sirius had given her, a sigh passes her lips as the realm of sleep takes firm hold and drags her under.

-Time skip-

Good things take time. That is what Meadow has always believed and, in the case of the trees, she is right. The pair tend to the garden and the saplings daily, giving water and nutrition where needed. As the days pass and became weeks, it became apparent that the birch was a happy tree and grew tall and strong. The willow, however, needed a little more love. While Io would bury fish heads in the soil, Meadow took a more unconventional approach to helping to the tree. She talked to it. Somewhere, at some point, someone had told her that talking to plants helped them grow. So, she tried it.

Long hours were spent by the willow, telling it every little detail of her life. Some days she talked so much her voice went hoarse and she had to drink a tea of lemon and honey to sooth her throat. Some nights she slept by the small tree, waking in the night to make sure that it was still there. By the time the tree decided it would stick around, it knew everything about Meadow and all her secret hopes, dreams and desires. The small woman knew they were safe.

Iolaire told her the willow would be stunted and Meadow was sad, at first. However, as time passed and she realized that stunted meant short and not sickly, the woman came to apricate the willow even more. This is their tree now. The Ashen Armada’s stunted little willow tree. No matter what happens to her or the pack, this tree will always be here to provide shade. This thought lifted her spirits.

On this particular morning, Meadow was out tending to the garden, digging up weeds and watering the plants that need it. Sitting back on her haunches, she looks over to where the willow sits and smiles. It is a good addition to the garden and it has given her a better appreciation for trees. She looks over at the birch, growing tall and strong and, while she likes the tree, the willow has stolen her heart. After all, good things come in small packages.

She spies a familiar form and calls out, “Hello Iolaire! Good morning! What do you think of the trees?” A wide smile settles on her lips.