He patted it gently, "Thank you."
In response, a reluctant thought pushed against his mind, warm but sulking, like a child grumbling though it had done the right thing.
Ikenga chuckled quietly, his voice lowering to a murmur.
"I know. You don't like it. But still… I am grateful."
The plant pulsed faintly, its leaves quivering as if in embarrassed protest, before going still again.
The plant's thought pressed into Ikenga's mind, hesitant, yet insistent.
"We want to do more for you."
Ikenga arched a brow, amused at its boldness "Quite selfish of you," he murmured. "What can you do that I do not already know?"
At his words, the plant stirred with sudden resolve. It slipped free from his hand, streaking upward beyond the moon's thin atmosphere.
