[ the flower girl keeps a smile on her face, her spirit as airy as the breeze coming the tall grass. whereas the greenery and blossoms grow in clusters, the path she walks along is neat and measured. the garden's only sign of a human's want for order. (though nature possesses order too, simply one too complex for practice.)

he's very kind, aerith can tell. most travellers passing by this misplaced church ask her if she's fine with this solitude. they view it as though it is some sort of confinement, but she always tells them, there's no greater freedom than being attuned to the careless pastures of nature than the hustle and bustle of civilization.

in her opinion, too many things get lost amidst that, including oneself. ]

Oh, no, I don't mind at all. [ honest, as she looks over her shoulder with a giggle. ] A bit of both, really. There are volunteers now and then that help out, but you're right. This isn't exactly a tourist destination.

[ a patch of pink and white carnations are given their drink and seem to bobble their frilly heads as water showers upon them. aerith can obviously water plants without looking, so she does, confident now to pose her own questions. ]

That said, what brings you here, sir?