Chris tried to focus on the old man's lesson, doing what he could to ignore what happened earlier, but kept finding his gaze wandering to the old man's leg. Now noticing the ugly dark mark that had begun spreading across the bandage, and his limp was far worse now. Chris couldn't help but feel responsible for it, something the old man easily noticed since he ended their lesson early along with telling him to stop worrying about things he couldn't control before kicking him out of the hut.
The rest of the day was a blur spent with the plants, finding out how each had its own interesting personality: the spike bushes being more military-like, the cacti relaxed and friendly, the cloud tree overly sensitive, with the vines being far too sensual in all matters, especially their hunger, while the world tree seemed to be the embodiment of innocence.
When night came it proved to be different from the others, only adding to his worry and unease. There were no wolves or dogs, no centaurs firing at the vines, or even the Minotaur according to the world tree. The old man also didn't wake Chris for his watch, instead having let him sleep through, and when he asked why, he simply stated that Chris needed his energy to do whatever he planned on doing that day. It made him feel uneasy.
The vines seemed quite upset that morning, grumbling about being hungry, whining that nothing came, yet still whispering how they were looking forward to the feast to come.
It wasn't only the vines either; the cacti spoke of preparing to test their strength, while the thorn bushes, now numbering over thirty, promised they would impede anything trying to get close, that their thorns would pierce any hide this time. Even the cloud tree spoke of creating a thick mist to blanket the area as a means to hamper what was coming.
Their words caused his hair to stand on end, feeding a growing unease, made only worse when he tried to talk to the old man about it, hoping he could shed some light on what they meant. He wanted to know what could be coming, what the plants were talking about, but he simply brushed it off as if it were of no real concern. But the look of fear Chris saw cross his features proved otherwise. He refused to speak of it and instead demanded to know what plant Chris wanted to grow.
"The shadow berry vine? Are you sure that's the plant you want us to grow, lad?" He questioned, thinking it over briefly. "If you want to grow that, then tell me every detail about it." The old man ordered sharply.
"The shadow berry vine is a ground-level creeper plant grown in thick forests; it earned its name not because of the dark sheen its berries hold but rather the black underside of its leaves. The berries are edible and can even be turned into a juice that revitalizes a person. Its leaves have medicinal properties and are often used to treat and prevent infections, only needing to be placed onto the wound to be effective. Sap from its vines is able to accelerate healing to a mild degree." Chris recited slowly.
"And the roots?" The old man pressed, making him pause and furrow his brow.
"They can be used as a sedative, a muscle relaxant, or a sleep aid depending on what part of the root is used, but you have to be careful with how much you use. The white part is what's used as a muscle relaxant, the juice inside the roots as a sedative, and the black tips the sleep aid." He once more recited. "But using too much or all together can cause it to become a strong poison." Chris finished, earning a nod and smile from the old man.
"Good. Had you not mentioned the dangers, I would have refused to let you try growing it. I prepared a small patch not too far from here for it. I figured it would be best to keep it close yet far enough away that it won't cause conflict with the vines." He told Chris as he led him to a small patch of tilled and moist soil.
"I sorted this spot before I woke you up, along with the cloud tree's help. Now go on, lad, mix in some of your special soil and plant three seeds this time; shadow berries tend to grow best when they intertwine together." He told Chris plainly.
Without further prompting, he did as he was told, getting and then mixing a bit of the special soil into the ground before planting the seeds with deliberate care. A spike bush had uprooted itself and approached them but kept a fair distance, clearly wanting to see the new growth for itself, while the constrictor vines seemed to slink over but still kept a distance.
Ignoring the onlookers and various whispers, he tried to focus on what he wanted to grow. Pulling forward his desire for what he wanted the seeds to become, doing what he could to ignore the excited murmurs of the other plants as their voices filled his mind.