<br/><br/><div class="floatright">(https://external-preview.redd.it/X34Io2HLR7C3SuzB4NXpRzPd8jLqdcGAZHg-_oIel3I.jpg?auto=webp&amp;s=2c26c3dac2cb7583ea4483a208651f7070e9f491)</div>Alundra (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=347373.msg16357127#msg16357127)<br/><br/>Content warning: Mentions of not so good punishments<br/><strong> Pots, Dude! </strong><br/><br/>Alundra was trying her usual nonsense, attempting to slide in utterly unobtrusively, motions calculated to neither be too timid nor aggressive. Both could stand out. As much as the girl had facial expressions beyond ‘present’ she actually seemed mildly annoyed, which was more than usually revealed. Greenhouses, just not her thing. Full of plants and cloying smells, the atmosphere thick with a nasty wet heat that was so opposite her beloved, desiccating and destructive fire. If fire could be said to have prey, it was plants. And what the hell did she, an isolated city girl, know about them? Not to touch them or you’d get yelled at, mostly. They were finicky as could be about water. Too little, whoops. Too much, even more whoops. The redhead herself had never been locked in a greenhouse or even a shed, but there were stories. Usually about kids coming out not quite right after a day or two, or worse in the winter.<br/>But, oh, there was something she indeed loved. At first sight. Following her trend of loving dangerous things that probably shouldn’t be pet, her eyes got all melty. Lazarus! (Ok weird name but still) A fierce wolfy boy, oh yes. Look at hims! Of course he was starving, and should get all the delicious yummys he ever wanted. He’d earned them, by… being awesome! Yes. But as always with expressions, vulnerabilities, it faded fast, dropping under the suffocating layers of her walls, the distance. If people knew what you loved, anything important to you, it could be used against you after all. As blackmail, a threat, or taken away.<br/><br/><br/>So Alundra had distinctly mixed feelings about the world as the apparent teacher danced in, dashing her mood to hell on the rocks of severe annoyance. So many things she loathed all in one spot. First, the song was atrocious, grating on something deep inside her, scoring very high on her list of hated things. Which, considering that said list included being an orphan and going through the foster care system, meant it must be truly unpleasant to her. Second, she didn’t like the teachers looks, those B list TV serial star looks, that likely meant he thought he was some kind of gift to women. Ugh.<br/><br/><br/>And third… while she wasn’t particularly delicate, digging through dirt didn’t seem like fun. Petting the wolf, yes, all day any day. Working on what might impress Miss Merryweather, well. Even joining one of the clubs that let her play with sharp objects sounded much more interesting, forced socializing included. Prodding at the mass, her head tilted. Far as she could tell…..<em>Dirt. Ancient crumbly rocks and bits of plant and animal matter, right? Perhaps some fertilizer? </em><br/>