Roots Before Branches
Kolt carefully crouched down beside the lavender bed, the damp earth yielding slightly beneath his paws. Taking in a deep breath, he relished the mingling of scents - the rich aroma of freshly turned soil and the sweet fragrance of nearby herbs wafting through the air.
Reaching for the tray of lavender seedlings, Kolt gently lifted one from its temporary home, mindful not to damage the fragile roots. With his other paw, he dug a small hole in the prepared soil, just deep enough to cradle the seedling's base. He placed the young plant into the depression, using his claws to tease the roots apart before guiding loose soil around them.
The heavy creaking of a door opening caught Othello's attention as he was padding his way through the halls back to their room from grabbing a snack. Following the noise, he tilted his head as he watched someone slip through the creaky door and into what appeared to be a room of plants. Interesting!
Othello looked through the windows briefly, watching as the other lifted a plant and moved it to another place. What were they doing? Too curious to just watch from the window, Othello followed suit and pushed the creaky door open, undoubtedly alerting the other to his presence. They were working in silence, as if they knew what they were doing... if only Othello knew what it was exactly, and why.
"What are you doing?" he asked as he caught the scent in the air, a soothing scent that he actually rather enjoyed. Othello took a few steps closure, towards the bed of lavender that he'd gotten the plant from, and sniffed one. The scent was much stronger with his nose nearly buried in the plant. Distracted by the sweet scent, it took him a moment before looking back to the older pup. "These flowers smell pretty," he observed, obvious to anyone who knew what they were.
He glanced up at Othello, noting the way the younger pup's nose was buried in the fragrant blooms. "You're right, they do smell nice. That's part of why they're so useful. The scent can help calm nerves and promote sleep." Kolt sat back on his haunches, surveying his work so far. There were still several rows of seedlings waiting to be planted. He turned to Othello with a thoughtful expression. "Would you like to help? I could show you how to plant them properly."
Without waiting for an answer, Kolt repeated this process with the next seedling, falling into the soothing rhythm as he slowly made his way down the row. The greenhouse's glass panels filtered the sun's rays, casting a soft glow across the scene and warming Kolt's fur as he worked. He figured he’d have time to plant another, even if the kid did want to help.