Submission (#6354) Approved

Mmm I'm setting up a story I'm wanting to write for Io over the course of the next few months (so it will be a continuation each prompt) but I got a bit sidetracked before describing the new flora. I'm pretty sure it still fits but I can definitely elaborate more on the vine itself if needed!

Io was determined to spend this miasma season in Silveil, as he had heard rumors the elnin he was seeking had been seen around the Thieves Guild. It wasn’t a very solid lead, but it was better than nothing. The easiest way to reach Silveil from Zevija, in his mind, was to skirt the edge of Faerindell along the lower lands and take a boat from a port village. While Kyendi’s landmass technically reached closer, Io worried he would have to cut all the way inland then South to reach a port, not to mention most towns would likely be traveling up to the floating mountains… On the other hand, going through Faerindell was practically a straight line and he could almost hug the coast and take the first boat going to Silveil he found along the way.

Faerindell is a region overflowing with beautiful flowers of all kind of colors. They bloom so thickly that it’s no wonder someone is always discovering a new subspecies, crossbreed or variety of plant; though entirely new species are also not uncommon to hear of. Io’s paws were relieved to feel the soft lush grass after the harsh rocky terrain of Zevija. The cool droplets of dew clinging to the blades cooled his pawpads and the aroma grew thick and overpoweringly sweet. Io paused to sniff the air cautiously, though pleasant the thickly perfumed air was a bit overwhelming if he breathed too deeply. His feet slowed and he admired the vines creeping along the path, almost like a macramé carpet of flowering tendrils. Playfully he began bounding in patterns – blue, purple, pink, yellow, green, and so on. The blue hydrangea, thickly clustered in a pompom ball of petals, Io had to crawl under. Indigo violets clung to the ground in patches, giving way for huge pink peony and camellia, and these Io walked over and between. A giant box elder tree created a shady glen for light-sensitive flowers, the earthy smell of decayed leaves and wet wood was a nice change from the various strongly perfumed flowers Io had been exploring. Dandelions in rich orange and yellow shades formed a ring around the shade, as though marking the barrier of light to dark. 

Io continued to explore, though he had his mission in mind he couldn’t resist pausing to admire the flowers along his path. Belatedly he realized that the trees were changing, more and more often he glanced ahead to see green and yellow foliage give way to large pink boughs. When he finally came to one of these pink trees, he admired its scent and investigated its surroundings thoroughly, relishing in the unique gifts of this region. What he didn’t suspect was that he was the first elnin to note a peculiar boxy flower. It had four pointed petals and grew on a vine, a rich wine-purple hue fading to a pale red at the tips of each box. They looked like little lanterns or very square bells, and he assumed they were some type of bleeding heart flower, the colors and shape were a little similar. As the wind picked up around Io, he heard a faint chiming ring out from the vine. He looked closer and found that the petals had space between them, and when the wind blew just right it played a grass-harp melody. Each boxy bloom was a different size, and each had its own unique sound. The little ones played high sharp notes and the larger ones boasted deep somber tones. Io blew on the flowers experimentally, though he couldn’t quite make a melody on his own there was a pattern to how the littlest flowers grew on the thinner parts of the vine that reached up and the heavier, thicker parts of the vine that drooped along the middle held the deepest notes. If Io had known, he might have spent a little time thinking of a clever name. Instead he assumed he would find someone in the city who would know about the whistling box bell vines. 

Satisfied with his exploration, Io left behind the area without marking or taking special note of his location. He ran along the path, hardly noticing the wildflowers and forest giving way to an organized pattern of fields speckling the distant hills. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts of Silveil to notice the path beneath his feet had given up entirely. It had been a rather overgrown path to begin with, with few distinct patches between the greenery of the crawling vines. If Io had thought about it, he might have been concerned about getting lost and taken a more cautious approach to his journey. But his ears were still twitching, picking up the faint melody of the vine, and his mind was elsewhere as he softly hummed the tune of the wind and matched the rhythm with the cadence of his paws.