Florianne's Farming TrialPart 1 – Beginner Steps
Going home had been the furthest thing from easy. In Florianne’s short life, she might even go so far as to claim it to be the worst thing in the world to have happened to her. Period. The moment she’d stepped through the front door of her childhood home, she’d felt a bitterness well up inside of her that made her insides twist uncomfortably. It was familiar in a way that left a bad taste in her mouth, the same way the scent of a certain food might turn one’s stomach. “Home” was hardly what she’d even name this place, if she were being honest. When she said home, she thought of tall trees, a small bird, and purple flowers that made her heart swell with joy. There was no joy in this place, certainly none on her mother’s stern features as she stared down her nose at Flo.
Florianne’s features hardened. She was not afraid of her anymore, she absolutely refused <
Annette's Identity TrialPart 1 – New Beginnings
“Did you knew, Nettie, that your hair is naturally as white as snow?” The sprout’s caretaker asked her, his paw resting on the top of her head. She looked up from where she was making a flower crown of daisies, her black eyes wide and innocent. She blinked owlishly at her father, tilting her head slowly to the side and lifting one of her tiny paws up to touch his own on top of her head.
“Yes?” She replied, uncertain as to the nature of the line of questioning. Why would he assume that she didn’t know what colour her own hair was? Her father was always being silly like that, asking obvious questions just to tease her. Was he going to tease her? Nettie didn’t mind, really, she liked the jokes, and a lot of them made her smile and giggle, which made her dad smile too. She liked it when he smiled. He had one of those smiles that was brighter than the sun and could power
Florianne's Identity TrialsPart 1 – New Beginnings
Florianne pressed her lips together and held back the urge to sigh, her fingers trembling around the needle she was holding. The sprout placed it to the side, letting her head slowly come to rest on the bench she was working at with a soft thump. She’d been at it for days like this – over and over again, trying and working and stitching and sewing, but to no avail. There was nothing for it – Florianne didn’t want to make her bag.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Mother would not be pleased. “How’s it going over there?” Her mother questioned, startling Flo out of her thoughts. She scrambled to pick up her needle again, holding up the pieces of fabric feebly, with a smile that was weak and tired around the edges. “I-I’m working really hard at it, mother,” she assured the older bagbean, who pursed her lips and stared with a hard look at the
Julie's Identity TrialsPart 1 – New Beginnings
That morning, when Julie had awoken, her caretaker had suggested that they take a walk to the markets to purchase some materials for Julie to try her hand at making her first bag. Julie had nearly combusted at the idea when she’d first heard it; the type to normally wake slowly, she’d found herself out of bed immediately and squealing that she’d get ready straight away.
Of course, as mother’s do Julie had found, whenever she was ready to do something her mother still had more errands to run. They’d spent a great deal of the morning bustling around the house sweeping the floors, washing the dishes, opening up the windows to let in a fresh breeze, scrubbing their mirrors, doing the washing, and a few other household asks. It had all been too much for Julie to bare, and now that she was finally given her favourite scarf to put on and her mother was picking up her own bag – pi