"So?" Fern replied absently, flicking her thumb against the injured bad of her index finger to drop a few final splashes of blood onto the plant. "That's the price you pay for roses, isn't it?" She turned then and surveyed him, studying his face for a long moment before speaking.
"You're Noah," she said quietly, cocking her head to the side. This one was different. The other, James, had been harder. More work. He served his purpose but she didn't know if he was someone she could call on again, not really. Some people couldn't understand the gift being offered to them. This one did not need any wheedling or gentle pressure.