 |
“No! No, no, no, no, no!” The shriek resounded throughout the forest. It was a cry of anguish, of loss…but not in the way one might think. Booberry Puff stood amidst her garden. One she had carefully cultivated over the years, building it as she did her family with her beloved. Just like with her family, it had flourished and bloomed. Its many flowers and plants peppered the landscape with various colors and designs. Some of the plants she bought from a nearby vendor. Some of them were populated from wild ones. Still others were hybrids she had bred over time, testing and refining until the plant seemed right. Each one had a story, as well as a place in her heart. They were her babies just as much as her flesh and blood ones. Plant babies, yes, but her babies nonetheless. Every time something happened with one of them, she felt the pain of it or the joy of it, depending on if the something was good or bad. On this particular day, that something turned out to be bad. “Why now, of all times?!” The tiny mare stared down forlornly. There, between her hooves, rested the remains of a withered and tattered flower.
Not two days prior had its petals been vibrant shades of fuchsia, blue and violet. Its leaves had been as green as the greenest grass. It had stood tall and proud in its small planter- the centerpiece of its selected area- radiating beauty and brilliance. Now it was nothing more than a desiccated husk. Holes riddled the stem, petals and leaves. No part of her lovely flower went unscathed. “I worked so hard. I finally got the combination just right. Not enough of the foxglove set to irritate the skin. A little bit more of the hydrangea set to give the extra color…” Tears welled in Booberry’s eyes. “What happened?! It was fine not even two days ago! And now it’s ruined! All that work…GONE!” She flopped down onto the ground, resting her nose between her hooves so that it ever so gently brushed against the dead plant. A lone tear fell down her cheek as she nuzzled her little plant baby. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to stop this. You were a wonderful flower. So full and eye-catching. You didn’t deserve to be eaten away at.” Silence reigned for a time. The only sound was the quiet sniffles of an Usdia mourning her flower.
Moments later, Booberry drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. Carefully, she maneuvered the drying husk between her lips, pulling it from its resting place before standing once again. “Come on then. Let’s find you a nice place to lay.” It took less than three minutes for her to find such a place- next to the rhododendrons, situated near the lilies, facing towards the east. Booberry lowered the little flower to the earth, laying it softly in the hole she had made with her hoof. “There now. Nothing will bother you here. It’s a lovely spot to rest.” Her gaze lingered a second longer before she pushed the flecks of dirt on top. She padded the area gently then took a step back to admire the flower’s resting spot. Yes, it was a lovely spot indeed. Perfect for her tiny flower baby.
A sense of melancholy settled over the garden. She absolutely hated losing any of her children, flowers or flesh. “I was so close,” she muttered, eyeing the freshly moved earth. “I thought I had it this time. But it looks like I made a variety which the insects rather enjoy. Back to the drawing board…again.” Booberry sighed. And now I’ve got to figure out what else I can give Ja for his birthday. I was hoping to have this new hybrid species done, but that’s not going to happen. I don’t even know where to go with it this time, and there’s not enough time anyway to start a new series of combinations. His birthday is next week! Shaking her head, she turned away and started to meander aimlessly around her garden. Sometimes she had to wonder why she put herself through situations like this. To become so attached to an object that was not sentient yet still treat it as though it was…was it truly worth it? Those who did not enjoy the hobby or profession of it would answer no. Boo had brief instances herself where she was tempted to answer the same. Except…this was her hobby, her passion. It was as much a part of her as the hairs on her head. So, to her, yes it would be worth it in the end; however, that did not stop her from feeling the setbacks so deeply. A loss was a loss, after all.
FIN
WC: 800
|
 |
Reply
