The seed just sat there.
Lomani sighed. Her head ached, and the breeze had died, making the air beneath the tent canopy stuffy. Outside, An'she shone down brightly. Lomani could see grasses swaying out there, but in the village proper the air was still and oppressive.
She dropped the seed and stepped outside, blinking tired green eyes at the rays of light that suddenly pierced them.
She was still plagued with pain, occasional sharp stabbing sensations between her horns and behind them, and a dull throbbing all the time. It felt like her left horn was too heavy and would surely rip her skull in half, just from the sheer heft of it. The right one was nearly missing completely. Lomani did not doubt the sincerity of the healers when they told her she was lucky to be alive at all. If she reached up to touch it, she would feel only sharp jagged points where her right horn had once been. What sort of force could sheer off a horn at its very base, where it was strongest? The feeling of only sharp chips barely above the fur of her skull was eerie, and she had only explored the injury once. The healers noted that she now tended to cock her head to the left, but Lomani couldn't help it.
She remembered, as if through a fog, blurred faces and concerned expressions. People she once knew? A lot of time had passed, she knew, but the faces were few, and those memories oldest of all. As she slowly gained self-awareness again, the only interaction she'd had was with the healers, who believed that a calm atmosphere was best for recovery. She still had no idea where she was when they suggested that she travel to Bloodhoof Village to make the rest of her recovery in peace and quiet. It was depressing to think that she had no friends who cared that she was alive. Had she survived when they had not? It was the only conclusion she could come to.
Now, Lomani was learning terrible truths about the world. An entire population of humans had been poisoned and turned to walking corpses, controlled by a terrible lich. A new warchief had leadership of the Horde, which didn't seem right. That lich had been defeated, in a long and arduous campaign with many losses. A dragon aspect had nearly destroyed the world... and Lomani was belatedly learning about it in stories and history books. She felt stupid. She was certain that some of it should mean something to her. Surely the death of the tauren chieftain should evoke some emotion in her? Instead, it was just another mental note.
A slight gust made it through the tents to where Lomani stood.
Perhaps Seer Ravenfeather was right. Lomani was not now the person who had fallen in whatever land or battle it had been- that girl was dead. She could not understand the behaviors of animals as a druid should, nor change into one. She had no knowledge of plants and how to care for them. She heard nothing special in the green growing plants or the whisper of the wind.
She turned her face upward in the sunlight, eyes closed, enjoying its warmth. Her fur was growing hot; a wonderful, soothing feeling. She did nothing but bask, standing there unthinking. How long Lomani stood there, she did not know. When she finally did look down, hot and partially blinded, she had reached a decision nonetheless.
After being still her sudden movement caused the aches in her head to flare. Lomani paused just a moment to master herself, then stepped gingerly towards the large tent where she would find Seer Ravenfeather waiting to help her discover her new self.