Where The Grass Is Really Greener Meaning Novels & Stories

I murmured. I continued my steps until I found a vast expanse of grass. I move my feet towards the expanse of grass. "So green! I remember when in the city with Sha "I murmured. Then I stepped foot into the vast expanse of this green grass. Incidentally the weather is too sunny, so it can make me free to play on this expanse of grass. "Huh ... if everyone knows that there is such beautiful grass here, it will certainly make them happy to take selfies here," I said.

Why was my love life so frustrating? "Have you noticed how the grass isn't itchy like regular grass?" I was wanting to keep topics on the tour. "The griffins who live here have an oil on their skin that coats the grass and makes it velvety. It's been like that for so long that the grass grows like that naturally now. And the color is like a turquoise mineral." I was feeling more at peace as we walked along. I turned and stretched my hands up. "Look, it's a griffin nest," I whispered. "And around the family are the flowers I mentioned. They're magnificent!"

Thirteen hunches beside me, clenching her ribs as she sniffles. "Hey," I whisper to her. "Look at the grass." She shakes her head. "I don't care for grass." "You haven't seen grass like this." At the Unfortunate camp, the grass is a pale green and only exists in random patches of spiky blades. Out here, it's a vast wonderland of beautiful, soft greenery. "If you just look up a little, you'll see—"

I had covered a good amount ground over my traveling years, but had yet to make too far. It used to be beautiful, with miles of bright green grass, a variety of gorgeous flowers, and a ton of big healthy trees. It was due to all the battles that took place over the years, that had done a huge number on Mother Nature. Now the grass was mostly brown and dead. It was pretty rare to see live, thriving, green grass any more. It was even rarer to see flowers of any kind. It was as if they were there one day, gone the next. This was one of the most horrible things for us Fae. We were so in tune with nature that this was almost causing physical pain.

However, the place felt like it was once flourishing and that a harrowing catastrophe had rained and wiped out every single being. Fane proceeded cautiously and observed the surroundings that were fogged by absolute desolation. He gasped silently as an air of familiarity washed over him, as if he had been here and witnessed everything before. He dug deep into his memories but could not seem to locate the exact time that it had happened. "It's keel grass! The spirited grass that's ranked top six! What a lucky day for you, junior Hayden!" Samson Hill exclaimed enviously to Hayden Wales.

Faint rainbows arc high above, shimmering faintly as if the very air itself is a tapestry woven with hope. It is truly a sight. But to my right, the meadow tells a different story. The grass there grows paler, thinner, almost fragile. Its color is a washed-out green, streaked with patches of silvery white and pale gray. The blades stand straighter here, brittle and coarse against the skin. Moss clings in dark, irregular patches and scattered leaves, brown and curled, litter the ground, dry and brittle.

Back in our old town, people seemed to brag about their status by having the tallest building and largest lot. As I ran more, the houses on the sides of the pathway were disappearing one by one. It looked like a crooked mouth, not having teeth on some parts of it. Then, it completely disappeared when I’ve come into a place full of trees and the pathway ended. The vivid green grasses were scattered on the ground, and this place has the freshest air ever.

“The fields healed overnight, alpha. It wasn't a gradual thing, and there was no rain, no tilling, no miracle of nature.” “That is not what I asked,” I replied leaning my weight onto the scarred wooden table, the map of the territories felt smaller today, cramped and inadequate. “They were dead land, beta,” he said, his voice rising in pitch. “Salted, ruined by old wars. Nothing grows there but this morning, the entire valley was green.” “Green how?” I asked, my fingers digging into the edges of the map. “soft,” he said, his eyes unfocused as if he was still seeing it. “vibrant like it had never been hurt like the war never happened, the grass is thick, alpha. it smells like life.”

He couldn't see that because he was blinded by the negativity and refused to look at the positive side even in the most difficult situation of his life. There I was again in the grassland, the place where whatever problems I had, nature would absorb them. The breeze would chill me through the bones and would help me forget my problems. Lying on the evergreen grass that seemed to creep and tickle my face. I might fall in love.

Like a secret, walled-off pocket of calm. We continue across the patio and down a short set of stone steps, and suddenly the scenery opens up even more. Acres—and I mean acres—of perfectly cut grass spread in every direction. It’s obviously not just for show. These are sparring fields. Shifting space. A battlefield dressed in green velvet. The grass is thick and soft. It’ll cushion a fall better than some I’ve trained on—but not enough to make anything comfortable. It’s still going to hurt like hell when I get thrown into it, which I assume is happening soon.