In the time that his sister had spent morning the loss of her frozen-hearted lover, Savva, Ambrose hadn't quite known what to do with himself. Rosalyn was the one that handled the affairs of the Grove, she saw to it that the plants were watered and fertilized as they needed, pruned back and helped to flourish. In her state of deep mourning, she was the one who seemed to be withering in the spot. She would pick listlessly at the meals that her son, Roslind, brought to her and she drank from the stream she lay beside, but beyond such, she was not getting up to exercise or to tend to the flowers she so loved.
He understood the concept of her heartbreak, what had been done to his sister was a tragedy. She had found her life partner in Savva, or so she had thought and then he'd disappeared and taken their foals with him. The loss of a mate was one thing, but to lose three children also... It was truly a devastating affair and Rosalyn's heart simply could not take it.
Initially, Ambrose had wanted to go marching off that blue brute and give him a piece of his mind! But his mother, Rosemary, had told him that it would be more helpful for his sister if he stayed put, in case she needed him. Besides, Ambrose was a healer, not a fighter. His horn was meant not to puncture, but to heal torn flesh from puncture wounds.
So, for the most part, he had stayed near the Grove. He would join Roslind in bringing his sister meals, and he would help Bracken, Rosalyn's rabbit familiar, with pruning the delicate rose bushes and wildflowers that made the Grove so fragrant. Rosario, his eldest nephew, would go patrol the area near-religiously. Ambrose had tried to go with him once, and he'd been let along on the journey, but he hadn't been able to keep up. It was clear that Rosario was using this time to blow off his own stress, and so it wasn't the companionable walk that Ambrose was hoping it to be. So instead, he tried to busy himself with other things instead.
He kept within the general territory of the Grove, at first and then slowly began to expand that circle. He wanted to stay close enough that if there was some change of news, that he might be able to overhear it, or that it may be delivered to him easily enough. However, he wanted to get out of the Grove, to give his sister space, and maybe, to give himself the space to be outside of a place, so heavy in the smell of a decaying love life.
It was when he was stretching his legs even further one day, that he had heard tell of a flower oracle that was passing through. If his sister had been well enough to receive them, he was certain she would have loved to show off her garden. Or... maybe not, actually, for he was the showy sibling between the two. Yet, he knew better than to introduce the Oracle to his family now, when things were not well in the Grove. He had learned some things, in his time of being apart of his sister's new life, such as social grace and when to 'read the room.'
Still... That didn't prevent him from going to see the Oracle himself, did it? They were not far, if word had traveled all the way to him about it. So, without asking for permission - as it was easier to beg forgiveness, and who would truly notice his absence anyway? - he set out to find them.
He wasn't sure what to expect when he found the flower oracle, but gazing up at a tall, ethereal beauty with flowers crowning their mane and a pelt even more golden than his own, was not what he had in mind. They stared down at him, and presented to him the choice of making a bouquet with someone in mind, and they would speak the meaning of the flowers to him, once he had finished. He may pick as few or as many as he desired, and so he picked three. He thought of his sister, because who else could possibly occupy his mind at such a time? He picked a rose for her, automatically, and then a daisy, which was commonplace in the Grove and then, because he was standing here and she wasn't... he picked a rose for himself, too.
The Oracle looked upon him, then to his choices and with a toe, picked out the first rose who he realized now, had some wilt in its flowers, some decay in its petals. He hadn't meant to pick a dying flower, when he had thought of his sister. Oh dear.
"A rose speaks of passion, of beauty, of love." Intoned the oracle. "Yet this one has little love within it to give. A lost love, perhaps. One that no longer speaks of such matters." Her paw moved over the daisy. "An innocent bloom, but more likely one to speak of new beginnings. A change, from the first." Her paw moved to the final rose. "Again, passion, beauty, love. This one has none of the decay of the first and in following the daisy, implies a new love, a new passion." The oracle raised their head and blinked at him. "A story of a love lost, but a new love yet to be found." Was the conclusion that was reached. "You may take these blooms with you, if you so desire." They said and turned away, for there were other Soquili who were coming to entreat with her.
Ambrose looked at the three flowers he had picked and thought of his sister again. Maybe this was hopeful news for her, but he may yet keep it a secret. He wasn't certain she would want to hear that an Oracle predicted her to fall in love again, after the last one had ended so badly.
*Still, it can't be any harm to take the flowers, for we can harvest them for new seeds.* He thought to himself and picked the stems up to return to the Grove, already feeling lighter on his hooves than he did when first coming to see the flower oracle. (WC: 1,061)
