Wild Berry Meadow One for the Money

the stranger was right in stating that she had someone to thank for what she knew -- but speaking on that subject was a can of worms she refused to willingly open. such knowledge had come at a price; a debt left unfulfilled.

on another note, scylla could not help but to agree. oh, indeed. to die in such a way is not exactly the honourable warrior's death many would prefer. the girl does not voice that she would have felt little genuine remorse in watching him succumb to the natural toxin, for in doing so, he would have aided to the very education he spoke of. nevertheless, death was not something she took lightly. he had been undeserving.

yet that was the thing that had left her captivated with the particular field of study. a plant was a plant to the untrained eye; the veil of visual appeal masked the vice beneath. she did not blame him.it is almost a trick, isn’t it -- they look quite innocent. one would never suspect their true nature to be so lethal. the girl's naturally vacant stare did not falter, unknowingly studying the other. eventually she shakes it, nodding away as she moved her optics. "yes... stick to what you know. it is safest.