THE EARTH SPEAKS TO ALL OF US.

⠀  ⠀  ⠀you   are   labeled   as   a   threat   to   those   who   still   live   among   the   dead   stars.   the   conviction   program   was   your   new   home.   anything   to   clean   the   sins   of   your   past,   right?   anything   to   help.   anything   to   fix   the   accident,   the   mirror   that   has   been   broken. 

⠀  ⠀  ⠀chains   clink   and   shuffle   with   every   small   movement   as   arms   stay   close   together,   wrapped   in   shackles.   a   shove   straight   into   the   garden   of   the   C.O.I   as   boots   forcefully   plant   into   the   ground   to   not   loose   your   balance.   they   were   frustrated   with   the   lack   of   communication,   they   way   you   keep   denying   and   denying   the   words   spoken   against   you.   how   much   blood   stains   your   skin   like   its   a   sick   corruption   that   finds   its   way   twisting   up   your   limbs   as   if   it   was   a   real   curse.   lowered   head   as   eyes   widen   to   meet   dirt,   head   lifting   as   eyes   peer   through   dark   hair.

⠀  ⠀  ⠀maw   agape   but   nothing   comes   out   to   the   sight   of   morel,   heavy   footsteps   following   behind   against   the   metal   -   angry   sounding.   your   own   heart   hammering   against   your   rib   cage   as   one   of   the   guardsmen   approaches   the   gardener,   it   was   your   brother   that   had   been   put   here.   it   was   hard   to   hear   what   the   guardsman   was   bickering   about,   finding   yourself   slouched   over   until   the   pendant   rises   within   a   hand.   a   snap   back   to   reality   as   you   realize   where   this   is   going.

⠀  ⠀  ⠀red   light   against   your   collar   already   gaining   brightness with warning,   back   straightening   as   the   chains   clack   louder,   more   harsh   ;   panicked.   finally   the   dog   barks   out   toward   them   with   a   fear   in   your   eyes.   “   hey   ──   HEY.   i──   i   don't   know   what   they   told   you   but   its   me,   simon.   your   brother.   you   can   just   ..   leave   that   alone.   yeah?   yeah.   ”   the   guardsman   loomed   over   morel,   threatening.   one   of   the   items   your   mother   gave   to   you   was   already   stolen   away,   you   cant   lose   another   piece   of   her.

Morel now tends a grove that is not their own. A blasphemous little thing; a spit in the face of god. Nothing has grown yet. Morel has been able to talk their way out of cracking open each of their brother's pendants in an attempt to grow trees from the saplings housed inside --- what good would wasting them be, if they can't even get one to grow? The C.O.I have resigned themselves to the logic of it. It's only Morel's own pendant that stands alone in a tiny box of dirt.

And then Simon arrives. Thrown to the ground like an inconvenient toy that the soldier's can't get to work. An argument proceeds --- break open that fucking pendant and plant something with it, or you'll go where he's going. Morel does their best to logic their way out of it, but anger and spite are difficult to reason with. And so here they are, crouched before Simon, carefully plucking off the tree tied around his wrist.

"I know you, brother." They reach down, slender fingers gently tilting Simon's chin upwards to meet their eyes. He would find a gentle sadness behind their eyes, and the glimpse of a burned off tattoo on their neck. "I'm sorry. I hope you know that your connection to the tree goes beyond a bracelet." A small pause. "The same goes for your connection to your mother."

She slips into doc mode, dropping to her knees. She ignores the rises of clocking of guns behind her as she hurries, not even glancing at them.

"I'm not interfering with anything. I made sure to watch my steps, Morel." Simon stated as he folded his arms.

Sehna still hadn't managed to infiltrate COI, but opportunities were still plenty. In fact, she managed to heal enough people on her own to be now requested by name. If only known as "The Nurse", she was just content to be able to find leads everywhere, helping people being a nice bonus.

Didn't mean that she expected Eden, the cult like nomads, to ask for her. They must be truly desperate, she'd thought as she arrived on the station, wary.

She held her bag tightly but kept her head high.

They'd request her specifically. Refused treatment from anyone else until she'd been tracked down and found. It's what the Tree wants, they'd told the Father. Which had been a convenient white lie. Morel doesn't trust Eden's own to keep them alive. In fact, they're certain this particular incident had been an attempt on their life.

Better to be treated by someone who has no reason to kill them.

"Morel!" Joanna beamed as she threw her arms around their shoulders and gave them a hug. She had gotten more meat on her bones over the years, no longer the spindly malnourished child that Eden has rescued years before.

Like all plants, trees are sensitive to nutrient balance in the soil. Maples especially are very sensitive to nitrogen—too much can easily kill them.

Body decomposition provides a lot of nitrogen to the soil.