There was something about the twilight hours that called to the face dancer, tugging upon the chambers that made up the multi faceted jewel which was her heart. Here she roamed, having journeyed from the sea, a unique beauty that was certainly foreign to these parts.The feminine was a desert rose, a kin to something you would read about in the tales of SinBad, or dream of when it came to arid lands, but lush oasis. opulent silks swathed their graceful and lithe form, like that of a dancer, indeed the sound of ornate chimes, delicate and tiny coming from an gold anklet which encircled their right ankle. Beautiful shades of turquoise gold and sapphire blue, while features, were obscured by a bejewelled gossamer veil. To any onlooker who would be beguiled by the charm that this particular woman emanated, they would be captivated and eventually ponder that money was of no importance or worry to the bare footed off land pilgrim. This desert rose had accepted the calling of Obsidian and had eventually agreed to venture forth to this land, Having no where else to go, and so choosing to trust some one she actually hardly knew. What 'was' known seemed to be enough for the mimic to entrust the dark lotus with what lay beyond that veil and what could not be seen nor sensed. And so her secret was safe. For now. New moon it was, and all manner of rare delights were waiting to be found. The enchanting sound had come to a halt, for eyes to widen, in recognition of what lay before her. Sapphire had chosen to follow a less known path, eventually it would lead to her destination, now standing in a remote yet shaded space, surrounded by a ring of sparse trees, in the apex lay small yet prominent bunches of Knights Spur. She
knew this to be a treasure, for the flower held a secret, when harvested properly. From ground to tip the purple, blooms stood no higher than two feet. Each individual flower were so delicate that a steady yet confident hand was needed, when it came to making most of its delights. She had hesitated this was not her home, to pluck something so beautiful could be considered to be wrong if not improper, but to leave them ignored and not, harvest what would fade in a matter of hours, was a sin. You see Knights spur aka Larkspur was surrounded by myth and legend, it was said that these flowers only grew when brave men fought and died, or when lovers united under the blanket of stars rather a romantic notion, something like that of King Arthur and the round table. Sapphire would inch closer, gingerly, not wishing to disturb the soil around and upon the concealed roots. No the knotted and gnarled masses under the fresh earth would remain untouched, they were to be harvested in autumn just before the first snow fell.
The roots would need to be split, half left and half kept. When ground down and dried, a couple of pinches added to hot water or tea then it would be beneficial for those who could not sleep or were some how affected on an evening, preventing them from being able to slumber peacefully and without issue. Right hand would extend out the way, fingers pinching the verdant green stem, which was hard to the initial touch but flexible enough to bend in the wind. Now when it came to harvesting the actual flowers, precision was needed, those two fingers would deftly twist and snap the stem clean away leaving lengths of about six inches. Speed was the key here, in fact if any one came to pass this way, it may look like the woman was butchering the things. This was not the case, for not a single flower head was bruised or damaged, each one collected in her left. Counting as she went, until she had managed to collect about two dozen lilac and purple flowers.
As she worked, a intoxicating scent filled the air, it was pungent yet aromatic, floral but yet deep. This particular part of KnightsSpur was what bewitched the face dancer, enough to not be able to pass up a good thing, Obsidian had subtly mentioned that the red headed elf was proficient with herbs and fauna, and in her heart Sapphire comprehended that the elf would not mind, specially if such was used to benefit others. You see the shape shifter was not selfish, nor was she truly rude. Regardless that she was hunted and sought after, her heart was true as it was pure, and possibly this was one of the main reasons that the plant allowed her to pluck and harvest it. Left hand would come up, removing one of the bindings from her hair using it to tie the stems together. Holding the bunch upside down so that the enchanted oil within would flow to the vibrant purple flowers.
With any luck the one she sought may know how to extract the rare and expensive oil. One drop was enough to intoxicate and soften the hearts of those who were hard headed, and even ignorant, it was known that KnightsSpur would beneficial for those seeking wisdom of a divine and inward nature. Such was the metaphysical and spiritual meaning of it. On a mundane level then the oil when mixed with a carrier oil and alcohol would make a truly wondrous perfume not something you could mix with other scents mind you, unless you truly knew what you were doing. sapphire happened to be quite adept at mixing and blending flower essences and perfumes with crystals and various other enchantments,
You could say she was very much into perfumery, and anything associated with it. She had after all learned from the best. Elves. Not all of their secrets had been mastered by the face dancer mind you, and so the mimic would embrace any opportunity that came her way, when it came to deepening and expanding her wisdom in such spheres. Once again she was on the move, leaving that sacred place within a sacred space, bidding a fare well to the hidden guardians, who she did not see but could certainly feel and hear. Pushing her way through some long grass, not minding that droplets of dew collected upon the bare expanse of soft brown flesh, and so making the bottom of her skirts wet. Intuition alone like that of a beacon, leading her to civilization and indeed people. Every possibility that what was within her grasp would be even more of a torch shedding light upon those who were still blind and had yet to truly see.
Another attribute of : KnightsSpur, it assisted mystics and dreamers, helping them deepen their meditations, and visions, but keeping them grounded. Would the two women who she sighted, acknowledge her, it was not exactly like the woman was hard to miss, not by her nature, but by the style of garb and the lament of tiny bells. 'good evening' tones soft rather melodic in sound. Accented, which would once again pull those who listened to her, to where she perhaps hailed from. A cunning delusion for the desert princess was no desert rose, not truly. Not that such could be seen nor felt in any way. Attentions turning from one with golden hair to the one with red, not venturing forth for not wishing to invade space was the elf hurt, it seemed they were frail. Deep eyes would note this not just on a physical level but on an energetic one, there was another reason as to why she kept her distance, being in close proximity to others had an effect, with what she was, it was just so very easy for her to take on the energy of others and so meld into their perfect likeness, such a transformation to be flawless would take anything from days up to weeks, depending on how complex the being was that the face dancer wished to mimic. Sapphire would not wait to see what would come about, if anything at all..would either of them note the smell, and what was held delicately in their right hand?
