gardening (allegedly)

Wake isn't alone with his thoughts for long. Probably for the best, at any rate. Ripping weeds from the earth here and there, tossing them into a rough heap in the center of the path that split the plot in two. They'd need to go into the burn pile, wherever that had been moved off to. For as much as he wanted to complain, the damage to his garden was minimal. That's something to be grateful for, at least.

As Sagittarius approaches, Wake stifles a cough. His lungs were still weak, and he wasn't kind to them either. Gaze flickering to his little sister, he'd accept the help. It's likely she's far less annoying than Davey, and better company than Tide-- the only creatures of their litter that he's been able to spend time with. "Gardening. Come here, you can help me pull weeds." His tone isn't unkind, though his voice is ragged from the coughing.

"This plot is all poppies. They look like this, the leaves are silver-green, and they have capsules like this--" he pauses to show some of the tall plants, the ones that he's begun to slice the sides of-- allowing the latex to flow free. "Or flowers like these, at the top." Gesturing to the white and purple flowering stalks, for the plants that have already begin to bloom. Wake is careful to point out the important identifying features of the plants. "Anything that isn't poppy gets pulled up, because they take nutrients away from the plants we're trying to grow."

Is he a good teacher? No. Is he good with kids? Also no. But at least he's trying.

"Wake"