The fourth time Uatyr stabbed a hole through a leaf, Lanaya winced and paused, then double back to stand in front of the creature.
"Can you...try to avoid doing that?" Tearing green, sadness, request to halt. She didn't think it was acting out of any real destructive impulse—it seemed to be made of rock or stone of some sort, and that made her think it was simply unused to a world that was so fragile by comparison.
Kneeling, she placed her hand on the green moss beneath their feet and looked up at her strange guest. "This—the trees, the grass, the moss, all the green in this forest...it's alive," she tried to explain. "Alive in a way different from you and me, maybe, but still alive."
Living green, light in the earth, growing, warmth. Lanaya heartbeat, not the same, Uatyr curious, not the same, different life.