Fenis hummed as she made her way through the summer marketplace that had been set up seemingly overnight. It had been this way for years though. The valley she lived in had a decently-sized lake that edged into the middle of the valley from the base of the nearby mountains, and provided a way for the creatures that lived there to cool themselves and have a supply of fresh water. This made it a prime spot for merchants, and others, to set up and peddle their wares and crafts during the hot summer days to any who may pass through. While it had started small, with the increasing amount of merchants came an increasing amounts of travelers and those who wanted to stay for the season. Among these were florists and horticulturists who delighted in the various flora that grew around the area, often collecting and propagating what they could. Some were year-round residents that took advantage of the market popping up every summer. Fenis approached a trio of tables run by a set of sisters that lived nearer the mountains, their flowers painstakingly cultivated and tended with the utmost of care.
Their tables had tall, wide-mouthed vases full of pre-arranged bouquets, as well as baskets full of beautiful, colorful blooms. The sisters claimed there was a language of flowers; that you could have your fortune told with a single flower, or a bouquet. They smiled and spoke softly with those who stopped by, offering to divine the meaning of the ones they chose. Fenis meandered around the table slowly before finally stopping in front of a vase with a small bouquet of purple, red, and pale blue blossoms. One sister, she wasn't sure which as they had never been properly introduced to one another, stepped opposite the table.
"Lovely choice", the fortune-telling florist crooned. "Would you like me to tell you what they mean?" Fenis studied the arrangement, admiring the colors and differences in the shapes of the blooms. "Yes, I think would", she replied. The sister gave a soft, knowing smile. "Well, these soft blue ones that grow in this cluster? These are forget-me-nots. They mean true love and lasting memories", she explained. "And these red ones are poppies. Poppies themselves can represent rest and remembrance, The color red itself can also indicate passion and courage, as well as deep love and desire."
Fenis nodded as she continued to consider the bouquet and the flowers in it. "And these purple ones here?", she asked, indicating the violets in the group. The fortune teller's smile deepened. "Ah yes, the violets. Violets mean modesty and humility. The color purple can also mean admiration and respect." Fenis considered her words.
Love seemed to be a recurring theme, and memories. Fenis had thought once been in love before her mate, but the stallion had disappeared a long time ago. She couldn't even remember what he looked like. Rest, she was well acquainted with. Passion and courage gave her pause. She didn't think herself particularly brave or passionate. But, maybe she'd just never had cause to be either of those things.
"Do they mean something when they're put together?", Fenis asked. This time, the fortune-teller's smile widened. "You know they do, neighbor", she told Fenis with a wink. She smiled back. "The past still guides your future. Cherish old lessons and loved ones, for they carry the wisdom you need for what comes next." The orange mare puzzled over this. Interesting.
She'd met many people in her life, and some had indeed changed her for the better. Like her mate. He was kind and easy-going, and made her laugh. He was special in a way that no one else had been before him, and she cherished her days spent with him. He was her shelter in the storm, and she loved him dearly. He had taught her lessons in their time together that would stay with her until the end of their days.
Fenis smiled to herself, maybe she was passionate. She looked up, nodding to the other mare, who wordlessly removed the flowers and began wrapping them in a delicate paper and tying it with a pretty whilte ribbon. Fenis waited patienly while she finished, happily taking the bouquet and leaving a trinket she'd gotten from a small stallion who'd made beads and strung different ones together on a length of cotton cord.
She took her time making her way back to the copse of trees she and her mate called home. He was probably roaming, as he was wont to do, finding pretty things and surprising small creatures with his curiosity. So, she took in the other stalls, making mental notes of those she wanted to visit next before eventually winding her way out of the marketplace and back down the well-worn path.
She heard a booming voice not far off, and knew her mate had spotted her, and she smiled. She couldn't wait to tell him about the fortune she'd been given and show him the flowers.
FIN
WC: 837
