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[color=a2d39c]“Thank you for your patronage,”[/color] Shika called, bowing their head as the man exited the flower shop once more. The transaction had taken only a matter of minutes, and soon enough, the shop fell to a comfortable silence, broken only by the buzzing of LED lights. The corpse-flower closed their eyes briefly, listening for the distant calling of sirens, but frowned instead at the faint reverberations of an explosion. An explosion? No, more like many small ones. Violent firecrackers in the winter night. Curious. They leaned against wall, seeped back into the carpet of [i]roots[/i] that covered the floor, and saw everything.

Cursed stones, reacting to conflict in explosive fashions. The DHA on the retreat and the yureis both on the retreat. A burning warehouse, and the police who arrived to respond. Their treant, scarred by explosion and shrapnel, its wooden form punctured by a heavy lance. Hm, what would be the appropriate methodology here…

[color=a2d39c][b]“GURGH!”[/b][/color] the treant groaned, creaking from the furious onslaught of the Motorcycle Knight. [color=a2d39c][b]“To think that such a mighty foe would use their power to further scar the earth and poison the air! What misuse of strength, what abuse of force! Hear me, DHA. This is not over! I [i]will[/i] have my satisfaction!!”[/b][/color]

With a final, explosive cry of revengeance and despair, all the fungi on the treant exploded, a smokescreen of spores surging out and blinding those still inside the warehouse. Updrafts from the flames dispersed the spores soon enough, casting them skywards into the snowy night, and as the dust settled, the only trace that remained of the treant was that of the shattered concrete foundation that it had tore itself out of.

Now, the encounter was truly over.

Shika breathed out, their pale green eyes refocusing on their surroundings. Like slithering snakes, their roots slipped back into the recesses of the wall, and their feet touched the linoleum floor. Flicking out their smartphone, the corpse-flower scanned over the rest of their schedule, considered certain things for a bit longer, and then placed their right hand on top of their head. Pressing downwards, they split themselves in half vertically, a gooey, viscous sap forming strings between the two halves, before snapping off and regenerating into two different Shikas. One stared blankly at the other, and said, [color=a2d39c]“Welcome to Eternally Yours. How may I help you?”[/color]

[color=a2d39c]“Hm,”[/color] the other said, [color=a2d39c]“could I have a recommendation?”[/color]

[color=a2d39c]“Yes, of course. We’ve got a special deal on our Blue-Dyed Roses this month; 30% off on a beautiful flower meticulously preserved so that it will last a whole year without going bad. If you’re looking for s-”[/color]

[color=a2d39c]“That’s good enough. Have fun at work.”[/color]

The clone closed their mouth, lips curved into a perpetually relaxed smile.

Shika headed upstairs, where their father, a fifty year old man who looked like quite the silver fox with his slicked back hair and his collared shirt, stood. A heavy coat and a scarf were in his hands, and upon their approach, he moved to dress them up, finishing the task off by tying the scarf into a cute little bow. Once done, he resumed his position beside the wall, staring off into a world that only he could see.

The corpse-flower chirped, [color=a2d39c]“Thanks Dad! I’ll be back soon!”[/color]

There was no response from the man, but that was to be expected from such a taciturn, cool-headed silver fox as he. Shika smiled either way as they exited out of the back of the house. The night was young, and their schedule was open enough to allow for such detours in the day-to-day. Humming a cheery tune, they strode through the muted streets, feeling for that psychic tugging that had initially drawn them to the warehouse.