*CHAPTER III : BUDDING*
The quiescent woodland, it's tenebrous facade devouring the vast aging land. Engulfed within is the slight breath of melancholy and an availing benevolence, Deemo and the young girl toured around the abysmal foyer, faintly lit by the radiance of countless melting candles. Strolling along the lustrous marbled floor, she glanced at Deemo with slight hindrance, giving a quizzical look to his life of solitude. Deemo's mysterious impression merited by his benign and empathic nature did not intimidate her, rather conferred a homely aura, the one thing she needed most. The duo progressed past several rooms through the gloomy corridor and returned to the salient hall, where Deemo's grand piano perched magnificently at the centre. Deemo emancipated his grasp and tenderly caressed her soft hair before approaching his piano, the girl responded with a bouyant grin and proceeded to trail his footsteps, and to her surprise she finds a young and frail plant sprouting from a decrepit stump behind the percussional instrument. Deemo, on the threshold of commencing his play, descried her rooted to the scene and sauntered towards her, altering his stance to parallel her oblique outlook, his pupil dilated, it was a viridescent plant. Although paltry, Deemo and the girl ambled closer and leaned forward adjacent to the fangible herb, both enthralled by it's fortuitous growth. Spellbound to the dainty plant, the girl beamed broadly as she pivots to Deemo's orientation unveiling her tangible proposition, Deemo acknowledging the visionary appraisal in repose, he rests against the stump and lightly pats a vicinal spot inviting her in correlation. The girl cheerfully leaps besides Deemo, cuddling her legs and concurrently leaning against his svelte chassis, thus begins her endearing enunciation about how the plant will eventually grow into a towering tree and on that very day will she be able to clamber out the casement. Deemo contemplated her in admiration of her wishful notion and softly pats her back in agreement. Outside the confined tower, dusk succumbs to the gleaming ray of dawn ascending over the horizon which seizes the tenebrousity of the dense, aging woodland and the scattering parched leaves sweeping to the sky by the fresh morning breeze. Time resumes and the grey perishes as growth is evidently, the sole intimation of life.
