Thread: -Rocky Soil- Hahvoc and Jaqueline

Most of the Marigolds bloomed today. Smog would roll in and out of the town now and again, choking the air and stinking the eyes. No legitimately hospitable topsoil could be found even five miles from the city in all directions. The earth was cracked and dry, full of rocks and broken concrete. Despite this, Erat managed to coax his patch of Marigold's to life every spring, and the Lavenders were soon to follow. He carefully went through with his basket, picking healthy petals. Soon he had a lovely little pile of bright vibrant petals. He pushed himself up from his kneeling position and brushed the dirt off his knee. He looked over his garden. It was slow going, even with his influence over plant life, he could barely get them to grow as well s they did. It was not very large, only about twenty feet by twenty feet, thick with flowers. He was the only one who sold them though, so they fetched a high price. His most prized charge was the sapling of a tree he had between the two rows. A young Oak he had found near the lake, and he knew it would not live if it stayed there. He took in a deep breath and quickly regretted it. The air in this city was downright toxic. Every year he could feel it just get worse, pollution increasing in the air and the nearby lake was just a sludge heap, thick and almost rubbery in consistency. He was the last Nymph in the city that he knew of. Everyone else had moved on to greener pastures, sure that anywhere would be better than here. He supposed they were right. This city was at the center of the war, much of it was ruin and rubble. What was left standing was turf of constant gang wars and coated in a layer of garbage. No one cared anymore. Wiping his nose he went back into his house. Well, half a house. The structure still stood, but it was bisected. He lived in the half that still existed. The other half was gone completely. He usually slept outside next to his Oak Tree, in his garden. The house was really just for storage of water, clothes and such. Just passing through his home out the door and climbed over a pile of rubble. He kept to himself on a more secluded part of town, one that got hit hard by the war. Most buildings were just a crumbled heap, no one wanted to live in this part of the city. It was quiet. He liked it. He started walking. About an hour later he hit the more populated part of town. There were people on the street, few walked alone, often sticking to groups. It wasn't safe to walk alone, not with all the bad blood. Humans liked to gang up on Supernaturals and beat them if they are alone, and lone humans would often find themselves a snack to a grouchy dragon or vampire. He entered the shop of the local Alchemist, a bell ringing to herald the entrance of a customer. A man behind the counter jumped at the noise and looked panicked, relaxing when he saw the Dryad, Goodness Erat! He exclaimed in a high pitched voice, Nearly scared me to death! I brought the Marigold petals. Erat told him curtly, setting them on the counter. Yes, yes. The Alchemist said, looking into the basket, pushing his tiny round glasses up on the bridge of his nose. His eyes were always scrunched up looking, like he was trying to look at something far away or very close up, How many? 56. Erat answered. The man nodded, I thought it looked like more than usual! Alright, I'll go in the back and get what I owe you, alright? Erat nodded and the human left him alone with the basket and the register. They had been doing this deal for five years now, so Erat was trusted enough.