Mistress Greta, Quite Upset-a
Jul. 31st, 2018 11:00 amThe garden's changed.
Greta surveys it, her hands on her hips and her lower lip caught between her teeth. It's a subtle difference, and not one that even ought to bother her. In fact, complaining about it feels absurd, because it's... well, it's lovely. Everything looks beautiful. Her modest efforts to control pests have worked better here than they ever did back home. Stems and leaves are all green and lush, and she catches an exquisite, ripening tomato on her fingers so she can frown dubiously at it.
It should delight her. Except that it's Darrow, which makes it impossible to brush off any irregularity as innocent.
She draws back her hand, then unthinkingly wipes it on her skirt, as if all this loveliness might be coated in a nasty residue. Then, after giving it a few moments of consideration, she pulls out her phone and invites Amalthea over for tea. If anyone could tell if something was wrong, it's her, surely.
Greta surveys it, her hands on her hips and her lower lip caught between her teeth. It's a subtle difference, and not one that even ought to bother her. In fact, complaining about it feels absurd, because it's... well, it's lovely. Everything looks beautiful. Her modest efforts to control pests have worked better here than they ever did back home. Stems and leaves are all green and lush, and she catches an exquisite, ripening tomato on her fingers so she can frown dubiously at it.
It should delight her. Except that it's Darrow, which makes it impossible to brush off any irregularity as innocent.
She draws back her hand, then unthinkingly wipes it on her skirt, as if all this loveliness might be coated in a nasty residue. Then, after giving it a few moments of consideration, she pulls out her phone and invites Amalthea over for tea. If anyone could tell if something was wrong, it's her, surely.