an imperfect memory // repotting in the greenhouse

[ninazu]

BURN
BRIGHT

// in serval body

The gold crown is too big for Ninazu’s head. But she might damage it in her Utahraptor body and she can’t shapeshift into any other form, so she suffers the walk to the greenhouse. Would’ve been easier if she wasn’t sleep deprived from chewing on memories of years ago.

If she angles her head just so, she can slip the crown down to wear as a necklace, and then the spikes dig into her neck. With how troublesome this is for a serval, she wondered why Caesar Cipher treasured it so. Surely the damned idiot couldn’t wear the thing. But he was a savannah, so maybe he was just small enough that wearing it as a necklace was comfortable?

She thought on this puzzle as a distraction until her paws stepped into the greenhouse. Then the perfume of flowers and stench of mulch assaulted her nose, and she was reminded why she came here. It was too depressing to keep such a treasure from an old enemy in her cottage, after all; it stared at her and reminded her too much of the past, bothered her sleep.

Ninazu sighed and dropped the crown onto the table. It was a good size for a succulent she needed to replant… though she wondered if using a simple pottery bottom would bite her in the ass later. So she glued it on, even if that was almost more effort than it was worth.

When she was done, a tall aloe vera was rising out of the soil. Caesar would likely hate his treasure was used to grow a healing plant—which, she admitted, was half the fun of using it as a pot—but it looked good, regardless, as if the aloe vera had defanged the emotion it elicited from her. Maybe she could actually keep the crown in her cottage now as a memento. She’d try, but if that failed… then maybe she’d toss the damned thing into the ocean.

© MADI