Find a Fruit Tree

As you walk, your eyes come upon a bush or tree of some sort. Unlike the gnarled and angry things that writhe all around it, this one looks soft. It's large round leaves curl and overlap, reminding you of sheepskin wool. The large clumps of branches promise to catch you in their pillow softness if you were to fall into it. But what catches your eye the most is the fruit. large beautiful orbs, fuzzy like peaches, but coated in an iridescent nectar.

Your stomach cries out in a powerful memory of hunger... You hold your hand to your belly and realize your hollow belly. Can you eat. You seem to recall eating before, but when was that. As your eyes fall on the peaches again, your stomach cries out, as if wanting to be reminded of fullness. These fruit, they were made to be eaten, and you? You were made to eat them.

You drift over to the bush, which begins to dance and shudder enticingly in the sway of an unfelt breeze. You tentatively reach up to pluck a fruit. It snaps from the stem too easily, as if it chose to fall, Your hands are smaller than you're used to, and the fruit tumbles past fingers, as the dance for the fruit.

Where it lands on the ground, it's peach skin bruises into a brilliant indigo.

Kneeling before the fallen fruit, you take it in your hand, like a sacrament. It calls to you, and you answer, taking a bite of the plump flesh. It erupts with a experience of flavor unlike anything you've felt. A piquant explosion, like a spiced mead, flows over your tongue, even as juices dribble down your chin.

Nealie appears behind you and places a hand on your shoulder? "Mistress? Should... we be eating?"