It had become a tradition at this point to meet Mountain under the weeping willow near the Ministry's pond, right by the blooming flowers of all kinds and colors. The air carried a sweet smell, mixing with the scent of water and aged tree bark to form a pleasant mix.

Mountain sat beside his dear friend, their shoulder to his side, one arm around them while the other played with their hair. His eyes watched the words, reading along with them.

They had met here by chance once months ago, deciding to stay together and get to talking for a while. Mountain had only just then been summoned. And ever since then, it had became a tradition of sorts. One he looked forward to when he woke up in the morning and lay himself to sleep at night. It was comforting, and if he was being honest, the only thing he looked forward to in his day besides tending to his plants.