[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/xC73k4v/Poppy-header-3.png[/img][/center]
[color=Lightcoral][b]Location:[/b][/color] Garden
[color=Lightcoral][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] Dallas 
[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GTYZ87P0iH4]Ambience[/url][/center][hr]
Poppy looked up from her work and put down her tools. Small piles of the roots were starting to form on the workbench. They were all cut or processed differently. Some sliced extremely thin, others roughly chopped. It all seemed to serve some kind of purpose. Something Poppy usually kept to herself. 

[color=Lightcoral]"They're edible roots, very high in iron. I add them to most of the food I prepare."[/color]

She searched for her notebook, her eyes passing over something familiar. A cheerfully decorated journal dotted with painted flowers, hearts and ladybugs. She opened the journal on the first page and started to read through the notes. The first few entries were clearly of an inexperienced gardener. Poppy turned the page to the next one, and the next. The writing was loving, at times it felt like the writer was describing the care of humans. There was only one of them who was capable of showing love of that kind. A faint smile tugged at her lips. 

Poppy traced over the final entry, absorbing the words. It was a worried paragraph. The condition of the plant in question was fragile. It had trouble flowering. The Sidhe held the notebook and fluttered over into a different corner of the garden. Mellow green eyes searched for something particular. Poppy spotted it, hanging slightly limp with a single struggling bud. She knelt down next to it and touched it gently. 
[color=Lightcoral][i]You probably miss her too....[/i][/color]

Poppy lowered her face to the ground. Her hair fell onto the dirt, surrounding the small plant in a sea of red.  She breathed carefully, focussed and with intent. Slowly the plant started to regain strength. It straightened itself out and the small bud unfolded its petals until a flower bloomed. It was a bright cherry red. Poppy plucked one of the inner petals, one you wouldn't notice was missing. 

Minutes after she reappeared at the workbench. The petal was pressed into the journal. A new entry was written with the current date, in Poppy's sharp handwriting. 
[color=Lightcoral][i]"Don't worry, it's in bloom 
With love Poppy."[/i][/color]

Poppy hid the journal in a drawer and continued with her tasks. She retrieved a cooled pitcher of blood laced lemonade, pouring a tall glass. She was on her way over to Dallas when the alarms sounded. Poppy drew in a sharp breath at the harsh sound, disturbing her short lived sense of peace. Vincent rushed through the halls followed by a loud thud and a yelp of pain. Shortly after she heard the sound of shattering glass. 

[color=Lightcoral][i]Unbelievable...[/i][/color]

She forcefully put down the pitcher, spilling the liquid everywhere. Poppy then grabbed the knife, sheathing it behind her back. With a buzz of her wings she was gone.