A garden in need (Harley)
The sunlight warmed Ivy's face, making her feel strong and content. She slowly opened her eyes to the new dawn, content that night was over. Something was different. She sat up and looked around. The children were nowhere to be seen. A pang of concern hit her, but before she could focus too much on the children, she realized that the plants around her felt different. They weren't the babies she'd cultivated in Robinson park. They were weaker, thirstier, more neglected.
Ivy rose to her feet and turned as she heard footsteps. A man came into view, though he didn't immediately spot Ivy. Gardening shears were in his hand and he headed straight for a rose bush. Ivy watched as he leaned in to snip a rose off the bush.
She held out her hand and communed with the roses, which grew long enough to wrap around him and dig the thorns inside. Ivy stepped into view as the man writhed against the thorns cutting into him, his blood droplets falling on the white roses, staining them.
"Savage," Ivy growled as the thorned vines dragged him downward, suffocating him.
She turned and walked away, ignoring the dying shrieks of the man. She continued through the park, encouraging plants wherever she went. Flowers began to bloom, vines began to creep up trellises, and the grass started to turn wild. Still, there was much to do.
This place was in need, and Ivy could see she had a lot of work to do.