Tending the gardens always made Shadowheart think of the Emerald Grove. 

She wondered what Halsin would think of her work. She'd wanted to arrange a visit for him since they arrived, to catch up and hear about the formerly Shadowcursed lands and his efforts to rebuild there. Showing others her [i]home[/i] was something of a novel concept, a worry that she'd never really needed to deal with before. Certainly a change of pace from what she'd had to worry about in recent times.

But there was lots of time, for once. No impending doom in their heads, no devils and illithids trying to dominate them, no githyanki on their tails... just the Sharrans that refused to give up. She and Nuvyen had faced some close calls, but ever since reuniting with their charming owlbear friend, the Nightsinger's lackeys had become unsurprisingly more cautious. And now that they had tucked themselves away in such a remote little part of the Coast, Shadowheart was starting to believe they might actually be able to rest easy.

Rest, as it happened, came in the form of kneeling in the dirt, plucking out weeds, planting flowers as well as separate gardens for herbs and fruits. There were probably spells Halsin or Jaheira could've taught her to speed up the process, but working with her hands gave Shadowheart something to focus on, something to calm any encroaching nerves.

The change was proving more difficult than she thought it would be. She'd gone from facing down death nearly every day, escaping from her past and trying to make sure there was a future at all, to... tending gardens and crops. It [i]was[/i] what she wanted, it was just difficult not to tense at every sound in the woods, not to have her spear within reach at all times. She kept expecting that horrible pain from the wound on her hand to flare up at any instant, only to remind herself that it was gone.

She'd been through a lot the past few months. Physically, mentally. She knew well how to conceal it from people. She tried not to conceal it from Nuvyen, but sometimes she couldn't stop herself from putting the walls up. She told herself she just needed time. With luck, her new home would give her all that she needed.

The familiar sound of panting and padded steps preceded the arrival of Scratch at her side, the dog licking at her cheek enthusiastically. Shadowheart laughed softly, trying to shake her hands clean of dirt before scrunching up his face and scratching his back. She wore sleeveless white robes that she'd bought back in Baldur's Gate, the skirt stained with dirt, but nothing a little magic couldn't fix. Her change to stark white hair and the clothing along with it had been a spur of the moment decision at a time when her world had been turned upside down, but she was getting used to it. Growing fond of it, even.

She stood, about to greet Nuvyen when a familiar roar of an owlbear from the woods nearby drew her attention, accompanied by a crashing of branches. She shook her head. "He's been at it for hours," she explained. "Quite the appetite, that one. There'll be no game left in a few weeks at this rate."

Shadowheart glanced over Nuvyen, trying to subtly search for anything out of place. "You were gone longer than I thought. No trouble, I hope?"