Per 
Vivere stood still, the great being’s rich, electric blue eyes sunken with worry. He raised a powerful hand to just above the ridge of their large nose, shielding the glare of the dull-looking sun high above him.
The vast terrain surrounding him was depressingly bare and glum, despite the best efforts of the cluster of trees that had started to flourish around the tall, lumbering man of wood. Looking across the lands, an anxious voice of reason in the back of his mind nagged Vivere to return. To turn back and walk down the path of shame from which he came.
But even he, as dreading as he was, knew the only option was forward.
Lowering his outlandish hand, the behemoth flexed his timber fingers. Impenetrable as his skin, and the ancient blood that empowered him was, Vivere felt as vulnerable and heavy-hearted as ever, drawing in a longing sigh.
Then he raised a thick stump of a foot, and continued onwards. However, despite only being a short distance from his soil, the old being already felt incredibly grounded, in several ways. Every step of progress forwards sparked another, greater throb of weakness, heaviness. The pressure that had started in his feet and grew worse ever steadier, anchoring his very essence to the darkened earth beneath him.
• • •
“Gone, has he?” Murmured Anafanapsi wistfully. He had sat down at the large oaken table, his hands of rough rock and bone clasped together nervously.
“Afraid he has… Afraid he has.” Repeated the being by the window. They were relatively average in height for their kind, but broad, made primarily of hardened dirt, with jagged gems and precious stones spurting out wherever they could.
Divitiae let out a mirthless chuckle, whilst the stone behemoth behind them gave an unenthusiastic grunt. Anafanapsi spoke once more.
“Sometimes, I wish I could of understood him better…”
“Not to say you did not try.” Vivitiae threw back, not unkindly.
“Yes, but, at least then I would know why he truly left.”
Vivitiae surveyed Anafanapsi uncertaintly, luminescent Eyes of lava analysing carefully. Then, with a mournful sigh, replied finally; “Have not we all.”
• • •
Green and red, beautiful, swirling leaves and flowers falling to and littering the forest floor around Vivere. Even when practically dragging himself through the dense undergrowth, the tree-like creature couldn’t help but admire the collection of plants that he was now paving a path through.
It was conflicting, he thought whilst raising a shuddering and all-too heavy appendage. It was brilliant, and completely new, the lands that he had torn himself apart to see. Did he regret the price he payed for it? Perhaps, but not enough to turn around.
The being of timber dragged himself on, the prospects of what could lay ahead all too aluring.
