The seeds of a future orchard have been scattered. Riding on the wind, or on a bee, their paths crossed and mingled excitedly above fertile fields. Some of them have landed on the earth; some have been smooshed down under a passing hoof. Others continue to swirl overhead, where every so often the wind carries one far away.

Such places, where the winds gather, nurture special bonds between creatures and between things. But the winds are strong. And little seeds must fly where they are carried.

However, it must be remembered that there are forces in this universe other than wind. Forces more subtle, and in some ways more powerful. A mysterious hand may even guide the wind at times.

A young elvish mage spots a beautiful seedpod on the trail, and places it into his pocket. At a place and time which feel right, he carefully buries it in the soil. Things call to him, and he listens. He knows that nature will provide for him, as it always has.