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The haunted house was full of trees. Rather- it's green house was. The trees varies in climates yet thrived. Oaks native to the north, palms of the south, tropical rainforests all thrived under a single glass roof.
A room of trees and plants, yet devoid of birds or any creature that might have made it seem alive.

Yet it was there Solia sat on the thick root of a mangrove tree, her boots dry as roots sank into tile like they were water and not stone. Smooth and effortless. Solia's idleness was born of the roses that bloomed around the roots, bright and vivid red roses, thorns thick yet easy enough to rid of with time. She was gathering them to try and learn how to form her own flower crown, to use something born of FEAR to create beauty- poetic, if odd.

She hardly noticed anyone or anything else, humming away at an old theme song from her childhood.

The arrival of company was unexpected, and Solia nearly dropped the crown of flowers she'd been working on. Nearly, as instead she fumbled, wincing as a stray thorn pricked her hand.
"Er, yes?"

She hoped that this student, (for what else could it be, lacking a coat or the signs of the clans), wasn't out for blood. True the new wound might have begun to bleed, but that wasn't exactly intentional. "Uh- that won't be an issue will it? I'm kind of just enjoying time to myself and I promise I haven't fought anyone! Or hurt anything. Unless flowers are a thing in which case I am sorry, I can put them back!"

Not that it would do much good.
"Erm, hi though, anyway!"

"Oh." She looked at the crown before shuffling awkwardly. Setting them on the ground as if that could somehow make things better. It naturally, did nothing. "Oh well I have! I'm supposed to anyway, but I'd rather not? So uh, just.. avoid it if I can. Talking is better don't you think?" She sat back on the mangrove root.

"Plus it's less painful. Not to mention less dengerous. This place already has it's pitfalls. I'd rather not have to deal with those on top of fighting all the time. Right now have to admit, nothing is trying to eat me here in the garden- that almost happened last time with some really huge flowers.." Nasty fat flowers with acid pots.

Solia groaned. "It's like, my job? I don't fight on purpose or want to but I have to sometimes. Sort of like... having to do homework? You avoid it if you can but ultimately you tend to get forced to do it anyway. Today has been a good day so far, no fights yet!"

Abolish homework. Abolish war with Halloween. Yes, totally comparable.

She watched him say something to the flowers, half expecting a glow or magic of some sort. When none came- "What did you say to them. Er, if you don't mind me asking."

"And as to why we fight.... I think it has to do with the fact we're afraid. Afraid of you, something we can make and that can harm us. We see what other humans can't so we become outcasts. We become afraid of what makes us different. It's like a chain reaction. Ending in us being afraid of the very thing we helped create. Like Frankenstein's creature."
She wasn't sure he'd understand the literary source or just the halloween stuff.

Oh. She looked down at the flowers then said very calmly, "Requiescat In Pace". Perhaps useless, but, maybe it would help the boil, it seemed to mean something to him, the flowers being dead and all.

"I wish I could find a new job." She held up her bow. "He keeps me alive, but so long as we're bonded... I'm chained and bound. I chose this though, but with the hope to change the ultimate outcome. It's a long process."

The bow was unsummoned, blue rose ring resting on her finger.

"Yes, that is.. where our problems begin. While many in Halloween do not a harm, it is those that do, those that push that boundary that are seen, credited, paint all with a single brush of color." It was a bit deeper of a conversation than she'd anticipated, but she liked it.
"A delicate thing. Yet somwhere it went from safe to chaotic- or if it had always been chaotic, and only now many have come to see it for what it is- a fast road to mutual destruction." She motioned for him to join her on the roots of the mangrove, to sit with her.

"Solia Delacroix."

Solia nodded, understanding where the Halloweener was coming from. It was a bit hard to dismiss what some of her colleges had done.

"The long bow is..hard. I'm not exactly built for it, so I've had to figure out a way to make it work for me. Thankfully Israfel is sweet, he doesn't mind when I mess up" She shrugged.
"Its odd to think oh him as bother a weapon..and as a person at times. Mostly because we're not raised to think that items can host minds. Humans would call us.. crazy to start with I think."

When he didn't sit, she nodded again. Still understandable.
"If you don't mind me asking Aurel- what are you? You remind me of a druid or a ranger.. but also not."

"I've been at it over a year now- Much better than when I started, but, alas, my height is the issue, that and close combat. Arm's not the big problem, not anymore at least!" She laughed, pumping her arm as if to show off her muscle.

"A lesovik-" she pulled out her phone, noting it. "I'll have to look that up later. But it seems neat if you're a prime example of your race. Not to large, not to overly aggressive or accepting. You're... rather good in your skepticism of me." She ran her hand down the mangrove, finger reaching mud and doodling a small rune into it.

Which did nothing.

"Can you- talk to plants then? Like rose." She looked around. "Perhaps, if I might be so bold to ask, specific types of roses?"

"Oh." Oh indeed. A small disappointment, but perhaps she would find differently in later research. "Pity. Well, if it helps, I'm glad you are less hostile. It makes talking much easier. Plus less energy in fighting the better."

The one rune in the ground she etched another right after. They did nothing but it was nice to muse over how simple lines could be so significant.

"Runes. Old languages dead to many if not most. Some altered, some complex- I don't know a lot, but a few... Mostly just what are on Israfel." She pointed to one in the ground. "Flight. Peace." She smiled. "The ones on my weapon, they define him rather well really."