<style type="text/css">
.conorrain b {font-weight:bold; color:#e2ff7d; letter-spacing:1px; }
.conorooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:10px;}
.conorrain p {padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;}
.conorrain {width:400px;border:1px solid #455d11;background-image:url(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/libri/Rain.png);background-position:bottom center;background-repeat:no-repeat;padding-bottom:50px;background-color:#b2c337;text-align:justify;margin:10px;font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;font-size:10px;line-height:12px;color:#d0e55a;}
</style>
Private, Jassypants!
He regretted he had let his half-sister’s greenhouse stand neglected for so long. He had watched from afar the previous summer when a member that no longer lived here had helped her create it. He had been blue-eyed and ignorant of its use back then, but a few days after her disappearance he had entered the little house made of glass and pursed his lips in awe of the wonders. He had never touched anything though, but he knew that his sensitive sister would never come back. He had not seen her warm hued form for so long now and absently wondered how she was. It was a given that he had, shortly after her disappearance, taken the time to track down her fading scent and found it digging into the Crimson Dreams territory. Anu’s scent hand lingered as well, and he had broken off the trail and returned home with the knowledge that she was safe.
He recognized the plants now, and some of the choices of herbs surprised him. They were no doubt poisonous, and could even in small amounts be classified as very lethal. He could not imagine how and why his soft hearted sister had kept them. The yearling did not pay too much attention to the choices of herbs right now though. His only task today would be to clean out the weed that had somehow managed to get into what once had been nice rows dedicated to plants of purpose. There was much useful here, but without care there was so much death. Everything should have been dead, but something had shattered a few of the windows posing as roof, and rain had helped sustain life. The day was bright and the sun warmed his golden pelt as the young leader’s nose faced the dirt and clawed fingers ripped and tugged away at the endless amounts of wildly growing weed.