“Of course, plants can talk,” she replied with her eyes looking up at him almost owlishly. “Not in the way that people do, of course, but yes. Everything has a language of some sort. And they can sense their own kind. Like, you know how you look at someone with a sports hat of your favorite team? And you do that like… head-nod thing people do when they’re chill? It’s like that for them.” It was really the only way to explain how the plants know. Or how other nymphs know. It’s like driving down the road to your childhood home for the first time in a decade or tasting a flavor you almost forgot about. Getting that sense of a familiar magic from a new source.
“Yeah,” she answered with a shy smile. It was not a fulfilling way of getting nutrients. And, obviously, she more or less was a tree. But it was one way they always were able to survive or hide when in danger. Matt mentioned training and her head cocked to the side, but she offered no more than another smile and a slight nod. She was not going to ask more. That was rude, after all. But she would appreciate the fact that he mentioned it at all with her bright expression. Then she giggled when he said they could survive. “I grew up in the middle of the mountains pretty much away from most main roads,” Kenna replied almost wistfully.
Her smile exploded as he confirmed the man she thought he meant was in fact his best friend. She did not know him personally. He was a bit much for her and used language she had never known before. All the same, she could practically feel the relaxation that came from her knowing him. When he explained more, her head tilted in the other direction and tried to figure out what they “served” in. So, Kenna’s face scrunched again as she tested, “Army,” with the inquiry’s two syllables dragged out.