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 Posted: Thu Feb 16, 2017 9:41 pm
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 Just outside Four Fronds is a big, ugly, old frond, clearly on the verge of death with a few meager branches at the top of it's gnarly body showing any signs of life. And to and from it's tangled and crawling roots goes a path way, and if one was to follow that path down under the shade of those twisting frondfingers they would come upon a rather large and unfriendly wooden door. No signs, no pleasantries or warnings; no wreaths or potted flora at the doorstep, just a big, ugly wooden door in the side of a big, ugly dying tree.
But of course, Zeylla didn't care much for aesthetic, so there would be no sprucing of her frondhive any time soon. The fact that it barely looked like a hive was a plus, as she got few visitors-make that none, honestly. It was always just her and Leechmom, and the peaceful quiet of her maze-like hive. Today she was lounging around, having already gone out and collected food for her and her lusus, and writing in her journal.
She was in a mode of creativity, with stories flowing easily from her pen, painting images with words, jotting down conversations; sweet dialogue and almost sense-able descriptions. Or at least to Zeylla it would seem that way. She was quiet proud of her writing, though of course she would never dare to share it with another troll. It was her treasure, her secret pleasure and something she hid even from Leechmom- the only thing she hid from her lusus in fact. She could sit for hours and write, using the observations of her days in the city and her strong memory of conversation to create fascinating tales that later she enjoyed reading before curling up in her recuprecoon.
And so, it had been a good night so far, quiet and peaceful. Her hive was just the right temperature and a soft wind caused it to groan ever so slightly as the frond moved. Zeylla enjoyed these nights, which she could happily say were many and as often as she pleased. Sure, she enjoyed the cities and such for their bustling trolls and interesting observations, but here? In her hive away from the world, she was most happy. Able to relax, and not worry about the curious or nosey troll prodding into her business.
The smallest of smiles curled on her face as she wrote in her journal and nibbled absent-mindedly at the supper she had made just shortly before. It would be another perfect, peaceful night, because surely no one would come walking down that narrow path to her hive and dare bother her. She never had visitors, after all.
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