Nature, Nurture

He liked Meadow so far, Spirit had already decided. Maybe he was being too hopeful, but she struck him as someone he could potentially get along with... if only he could overcome his crippling shyness. Spirit was hardly oblivious to the things he needed to work on, but it was far easier to imagine change than it was to enact it. He wished so badly he was more like everyone else, that he was better - that he was stronger, that he was more useful, that he was just different. The thought was a painful one, and one he tried not to dwell on for very long. Instead, he'd dive head-first into considering the little lesson she was suddenly giving him.

Spirit wished that he could recognize the plant she was describing, but it struck him then that he hadn't really paid much attention to any plants in particular, except for certain flowers he'd come across. "I... d-don't think I've n-noticed it," he admitted tentatively. His eyes widened further when she demonstrated vaguely what it looked like by drawing in the soil. Though he wasn't sure if he'd ever come across it, he thought he was bright enough to get the idea. A small smile twitched at his lips at her words. "B-but I c-could help!" He felt like he lacked much usefulness within Abaven as he tried to figure out where he really belonged; even the possibility of helping a stranger seemed to infinitely brighten his mood.