storm. (_storm_) wrote in keytowonderic, @ 2013-01-16 16:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | storm, tyga lils |
Who: Storm and Tiger Lily.
When: Wednesday, early afternoon.
Where: The Garden.
What: Random encounter, Storm looms over a dying clover.
Rating: Low, probably some language.
Storm knelt over the trampled little clover. It was quite obvious that someone had gone out of their way to step on the poor bud, whose little pink petals were now fanned and strewn out in odd directions. It'd become completely disconnected from the soil, with the tiniest little roots up in the air, alive, but still dying.
Now why would someone deliberately do something like that? Not that these things never happened, he understood. You couldn't care for every tiny flower, but to pluck it out of the ground on purpose, with some kind of- anti-clover vendetta, and then trample and squish the thing, well, that didn't make much sense at all. There was no use putting it back into the ground, and keeping it alive for a day or two in a vase seemed cruel. Why delay the inevitable?
He plucked the little flower off of the grass, and idly wondered if it could have grown into something. Maybe it could have been someone to converse with, had it lasted long enough. But, for now, it remained gently in his fingers, as he tried to figure out exactly what to do with it, his aura twisting a morbidly contemplative gray There were other clovers nearby that were fine, which made him wonder why this person had gone out of their way to mutilate just one flower. In a storm, he could drown dozens at a time- slow and painful. That, he'd learned to live with.
Perhaps leaving it be was the best option, but, knowing what he did about flowers, he had to wonder if it was going to suffer this way. Or if it knew how to suffer, or if the other flowers were sitting there watching it suffer. Should he bury it? Throw it somewhere? Cut it's head off to ensure a speedier demise?
He pondered the little flower for quite some time. If he could help something, it was like him to try, but what was there to be done? He sighed. Oh, normally the fates of clovers were not things to ponder on. He'd killed plenty and yet this- had somehow gotten him thinking about things he hadn't for quite some time.
He held the little flower in both hands, seemingly a little entranced, looming over the dying thing and looking somewhat guilty.