[ Listening to Ori is terribly easy. She’s bright in that same way a constellation can be; Aerith may not have seen them many times in her life, but the opening of her church offered a look into the free sky and there is something so wholly bright about her in the same way the north star could take you home. So Aerith listens, expression curious but not quite honest, because even as Ori tells her tale, there is no intention on the florist’s part to share her sordid story.

It helps, though, that she leads with a firm state of belief, wearing a smile that could lead you home. ]

Druids…

[ The world is alien on her tongue, completely new to her— still, it’s somehow reassuring. That Ori’s abilities are something associated with people like her; like them. The idea tickles a part of her brain, dormant but lonely-soaked all the same. She feels more and more in Reverein. How could you not, when people seem to be surrounded by loved ones and those like themselves again and again, more and more?

Though Ori calls it nature, Aerith would call it the Lifestream. Perhaps it isn’t so different. Life flows through all of nature, after all: Aren’t they part of it, too? ]

That’s wonderful. Everyone always gave me such weird looks about it! But here you are, telling me a whole lot of people could do it…

[ Funny, right? ]