Shimon examined his reflection in the artificial pond below. He watched as needles began to pop out from the mossy bark covering his arms and his old leaves started to fall away. [color=228b22][i]I am never ready for winter...[/i][/color] he thought to himself groggily. The heat no longer bothered Shimon, but the reduced sunlight and dry air would wreak havoc on him if he did not adapt. Years of personal experimentation had taught him that in the winter, when subzero temperatures made it necessary to preserve more water and the sun was not as bright, needles were simply better than leaves. He would be able to make it through this winter without his usual extended hibernations, although to be frank, such sleeps didn’t bother him. The underground garden was comfortable enough, and he was used to lying in soil reading or slipping into a gentle plant coma, sometimes for weeks at a time.

This year would be different, though. While Shimon was fortunate enough to have developed his powers under the guidance of other plant-oriented mutants and instructors, his classmates had all begun to set out on contracts of their own, leaving the garden lonelier than normal. That, and Shimon wasn’t really a fan of the fiery hearths people tended to gather around when it was cold out. Christmas celebrations made the matter even worse, as he could scarce walk a few feet without some stranger trying to string decorations on him.

Shimon had been strictly limited in the sorts of contracts he was allowed to take for two reasons. First and foremost, he had perhaps expressed one too many times his desire to return to Prague, and that meant there was a hypothetical risk of him leaving. Shimon did his best to convince them otherwise, stating that to try and cross England, let alone all of Europe, would be suicide for such an easily-identifiable mutant, but this did not assuage their second fear. Shimon was brutishly large and frightening to peasant folk. Pitchforks and torches could easily be brought against him or the Academy if things went south.

There was an unspoken third reason the Academy sought to hide Shimon’s presence from the King, although they would never admit it. Shimon tried his best not to think about that.

[color=228b22][I]I will leave the garden. I will not spend an entire season alone in here. Elohim give me strength.[/i][/color] The hulking green creature stood up to his full height, loosening his roots’ grip on the soft ground. He felt a slight sting as he ripped himself from the earth, shaking off the clumps of dirt that were still attached to his legs as he walked in the direction of the garden’s exit. A few mutants observed him leaving, nodding and expressing their approval at his new pine-like appearance, but all seemingly too busy to strike up a full conversation. [color=228b22][i]They are not unlike me, but they are luckier. Most of them can hide their marks. The others are at least the right size for a world of humans.[/i][/color]

Walking through the halls of the Academy reminded Shimon just how much the world wasn’t made for someone like him. It made him feel freakishly huge, claustrophobic even. He desperately wanted to be in nature, to have a reason to leave the school grounds, and so for the first time in what felt like months, Shimon visited the board, hoping to secure a contract that made good use of his natural skills... and hopefully one where his inability to hide his mutation would not be a liability.