Saphyre tenderly bends over to pull away the dead leaves and blossoms
that have given their beauty for all to witness during their brief lifespan. The
prophetess' slender blue fingers pluck carefully past the thorns that try
to hinder her progress. The purple roses are her own handywork, carefully
grown to produce the vibrant bluish purple hue after much experimental process.
Saphyre smiles in the moonlight at her garden filled with lovely purple roses,
white lillies and blue tulips. Walking from bush to bush, she carries her basket
to carry the best blossoms to decorate her secret cave. Life is good these days.
The prophetess recalls the events of late. This will pass. She has had a glimps of
the future and nods with just a hint of a smile. Bringing a full blossom
to her nose, she smells its gentle fragrance. Soft. Indeed, life is good and precious.