(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

odd seed... are those teeth along the edge? Barbs, perhaps... where did you
come by it, friend?"
"Old Mebbeth, the midwife of the Square, needs some herbs sprung from
that seed. Do you know where I could get some?"
"No..." Mourns-for-Trees continued to stare the seed in his hand. "This is the
only seed of its kind I've ever seen... I... ah!" He winced, and a spot of blood
glistened on his thumb. "The barbs on it are sharp, indeed. Perhaps you
should hold it."
I took it back, "Yeah, I should've warned you. Sorry." I stared at it
contemplatively, "So you can't help me, either?"
"Unless you can make that one grow, I cannot... again, I've never seen a
seed of its like before, friend."
"If we wanted it to grow enough, is it possible to make it grow?"
Mourns-for-Trees looked at the seed and nodded. "Perhaps... if you cared
enough to see it grow..."
I held it in my hands, then, focusing on it, willing it to grow. I silenced that
nagging voice of skepticism in the back of my head, planting all my attention
on the black-barbed seed I held gingerly in my fingers. I prodded it gently
with my mind, neither forcing nor urging.
To my surprise, there was a crack and the seed split, twigs splitting from its
surface like fingers. Instinctively, I dropped the seed, but the talon-like twigs
wrapped around my wrist and wouldn't let go.
"What the hells?!"
Mourns-for-Trees and Morte both stared at the barbed branches wrapped
around my wrist, stunned. "I... think the barbs on those new branches would
be more than enough for what your friend needs."
I shook my arm, trying not to move my fingers since I was wary of the
thorns, "I hope she can get this damn thing off of me. Until we meet again,
Mourns. Do you happen to like Gar-Bar root?"
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