"Is it ...pie?" she asks with almost accusatory glee, not giving Ned much of a chance to respond before she sets at him with tickling until he howls with laughter and has to push her off.
Of course it's pie, what else could it be? Ned is still Ned even if the dying and reviving god has been rewritten to place its attentions firmly in the flora instead of human beings and variations thereof. It is good that they're similar, now - good that she can spend time with someone being quiet, good that she can make him laugh and not hurt, not worry.
It's good in the way that knowing and meeting Ned is good, and she tells him this long after the sun has gone down and they play a game of naming the strange constellations after flowers, trees, plants.
It's good to be grounded without pining for the stars.
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Of course it's pie, what else could it be? Ned is still Ned even if the dying and reviving god has been rewritten to place its attentions firmly in the flora instead of human beings and variations thereof. It is good that they're similar, now - good that she can spend time with someone being quiet, good that she can make him laugh and not hurt, not worry.
It's good in the way that knowing and meeting Ned is good, and she tells him this long after the sun has gone down and they play a game of naming the strange constellations after flowers, trees, plants.
It's good to be grounded without pining for the stars.