"And if it's not my promiscuous husband," a dryad-like entity wrapped out the tree trunk. Her long hair curled between deep hues of green. Her eyes blinked with a blueish cheer – she stood well above the average height of other dames he'd met. And there, under the falling leaves of the oak tree, she lunged her long legs, digging them into the ground and crossing her arms at Staxius, "-why are you here?"
"I don't remember being called your husband, Gaia."
"Give me a break," she flapped her long lashes, "-don't you give me flare. We're supposed to be the ones who birthed the universe, are we not?"
"We did," he dimmed his gaze, "-we were supposed to be the ones who did so. Alas, history doesn't speak of your infidelity."
"Don't you dare," she turned and walked towards a garden of yellow and red, "-I will not even entertain the idea of being called a cheater. I spoke throughout about Uranus and me; you just didn't listen."
