It's an apple tree; she landed on an apple tree.
Who would have thought that leaving the shady little barrel was like leaving a magnificent, tired apple tree?
"Hooray ..."
For the first time, Dill praised the moon god from the bottom of her heart.
Not far from the barrel once filled with fear, the sunlight has unfolded those fragmented nightmares. Oa terrorized her with the darkness of the night, but Amber told her that the moon was also the light that cut through the darkness, that there was no absolute blackness and no absolute light.
"With fear in your heart, still go forward, and whenever darkness falls, the moonlight will also be with you for a long time. And you are searching for who you are; never forget that you are also a witch favored by the Moon Goddess."
Loving as a mother and majestic as a father, this was Amber, the woman who had taken her hand into the world.
Dill picked a large apple, rosy and shiny like a young girl's drunken cheeks, and bit into it, sweet and sour like plums, like the forest in the summer, and like the night she celebrated with the young girls by raising a glass of wine.
She turned her head to share it with the turnip, but suddenly felt a tremor under the tree, a disturbing sound that brought Dill back to reality. The branch under her buttocks snapped with a sound -
Dill plummeted, quickly realizing she wasn't too far off the ground, or perhaps a pair of arms snatched her up and caught her.
"Whoa." The man's mouth dropped open in surprise.
The traveler wanted fruit to quench his thirst, and what fell from the sky was indeed a reddish apple—a half-bitten apple—at which point the brunette holding the apple stared at it as if the other man was the one who had appeared out of thin air.
He opened his mouth for a long time before revealing a smile that did not lose decorum; the silver jewelry on his body dazzled with a divine radiance; and his movements softly chanted a wonderful gospel.
"Wow, this must be a wishing tree."
The man flashed a bright, charming smile, as if trying to defuse the horror on the girl's face with his humor.
Before falling out of the tree, Dill had thought of a million possibilities: either the tree just happened to be on the edge of an overhang or there was a pool of cannibalism underneath it. Anyway, as Amber said, fate is just a dice in the hands of the gods, and even if it's miserable, they will give the pawns a breath of life; otherwise, the game will not be fun.
But apparently, the goddess didn't find that interesting enough-
Lacquered silver and snowy hands picked up the young girl forcefully, as if she were a fragile object, carefully checking that she was alright before gently stabilizing the girl on the ground.
But Dill remembers clearly that at the moment she fell, the other woman's hand was first pressed on the hilt of the sword at her waist, which was adorned with two fist-sized sapphires and emeralds each, making the hilt into the shape of a gavel.
Dill coincidentally happened to recognize the thing: blue for sensual compassion, green for rational authority—it was the gavel of judgment that symbolized the Most High God.
"I do miss Sarno's cider, and... It would be nice if another roast goose fell."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a large white goose flapped its wings and fell from the sky, its big, fat, attractive white ass pointed at the young knight.
"Quack!"
Turnip happily kissed and pecked the young witch, defenseless against her behind.