sometimes you forget where the heart is

Clover Love Lykoi · 10-26-2011, 08:38 AM

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Word Count → 521 :: I'm kind of rusty, so my apologies to whoever decides to jump in here. :3

Despite the warmth that her familiar purple tapestry provided through the steadily colder nights, Clover could still feel the creep of chill in both fingers and clawed toes when she awoke in the morning. Upon sitting up and stretching lithe limbs up over her head, Clover swept the makeshift blanket around her torso and crossed her legs beneath her like a pretzel. Winter was fast approaching, and Clover realized that perhaps she had been neglecting some of her plants. It was time to prepare for the winter cold, harvest what she could of some plants and prepare the rest for their winter’s rest.

Slender fingers reached towards the earthen colored wall, tenderly lifting away a small swatch of cloth that had been carefully laid to conceal a small row of neatly placed mason jars. If anyone knew Clover, they had probably most likely seen at least one of these jars before – her dried marijuana sat safely inside, ready to leak its sweet aroma into the air the instant the lid was loosened even just a smidge. But this morning Clover ignored her favorite jar, straw yellow eyes sweeping over the others. After all this time she still had one of her favorite discoveries kept dried out and safe within one of the jars. For awhile, Clover had carried the shrooms with her pot jar in search of the perfect place and person to take them with, but had never seemed to find the right scenario. After awhile, she had given them their own glass refuge and had decided to keep them amongst her little row of masons for safe keeping. As long as they were kept secure and dry in the jar, she was almost certain they would stay potent.

While she devised a plan for the day, fingers returned to the golden locks, which now had grown past her bust and swept the small of her back, and twisted the strands by her face into a braid before fastening it with a small strap of leather. She repositioned the white headwrap that nearly always adorned her forehead, before reaching for her knapsack left discarded on the floor. Without having to look, Clover knew that inside were hidden matches and a pipe for smoking, and now she added two of the mason jars that were empty. She supposed she would tend to the few marijuana plants she had been able to transplant from Inferni and see if they had yielded any results. Without the controlled environment of the greenhouse, it was much more difficult to seek the same profits.

Taking a sweeping glance of the place, Clover mentally double checked to make sure she had everything that she would need. Rising from the floor, she tossed the tapestry aside for now so only the denim of her shorts concealed any part of her body. Lifting the knapsack from the floor, Clover swung the strap over one shoulder. Venturing out in the empty halls of the Ruins, Clover figured she would first check on her plants before perhaps making a detour to visit her dear Daisy tucked safely away in the barn.

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