I had just deposited the stem cutting into my inventory, watered Barry and fed Blaze a chocolate protein bar which he ate almost immediately.
Finally, it was my turn. I cradled the Scarafruit like a sacred burger. Its violet skin glistened under the filtered sunbeams. I could practically taste victory and vitamins.
And then I heard a snapping of some twigs. And another until my life now revolves around breaking twigs.
I didn't even look this time.
"Is it too much to ask for one bite?" I groaned, turning around, and immediately regretted doing it.
Standing there or rather lurking, was a towering monster plant with the elegance of a bouquet and the hunger that couldn't be sealed.
It had a full rosebud for a head, velvety red with dew that shimmered like blood. Its body was almost the same as a praying mantis made out of twisted green leaves and vines. It was two frontal long, thorny vine-arms twitched menacingly, like it was excited to slap the protein out of me.
My jaw dropped. Even Blaze stopped licking chocolate off his paws and Barry's glow dimmed with a panicked flicker.
Appraisal:
Name: Thornata Bloomdrake
Type: Predaflora (carnivorous)
Class: Elegant Apex
Traits: Lures prey with fragrance, Thorn Whips for Grappling, Decapitates before digestion.
Status: HUNGRY.
Shiv: Thinks your fruit smells like dessert. Also, you.
"Lovely," I muttered.
It let out a roar almost the identical of those Tyrannosaurus rex I watched hundreds of times in movies. It scared the shit out of me hearing it for real. Somehow that's a thing and raised its thorny vine arms.
"Whoa, hey now! I'm not on the menu. I'm stringy, low in protein, and mildly annoying!"
Blaze growled, low and sharp, curling his body like a ninja cat-plant hybrid ready to pounce.
I slowly slipped the Scarafruit back into my bag.
"We can all agree this is just a misunderstanding, right? You wanted fruit. I wanted fruit. Let's not be dramatic about this."
The Bloomdrake screeched—a sound like fifty wilted roses being ripped in half—and lunged.
"OKAY, DRAMA IT IS!"
I ran as I grabbed Barry.
Branches whipped at my face. Vines snapped at my heels. Barry flailed in his sling. Blaze leapt onto the Bloomdrake's vine arm and bit it mid-air, shrieking like an angry salad shooter.
"STOP EATING THINGS STRONGER THAN YOU!" I yelled.
Blaze clawed at the creature, distracting it just enough for me to dive-roll behind a log, face-first into a pile of semi-edible moss. I took the shot. Taste the moss if it was really edible but regretted everything because it was damn blant.
Should I surrender the fruit? I would, but I'm emotionally attached now. This fruit belongs to me.
Barry pulsed with warning light. Blaze landed beside me, panting, his leaf-tufts ruffled. The Bloomdrake hissed again, but didn't charge this time and became perfectly still, just like the praying mantis, waiting, calculating.
I made a mentally note:
"Predatory roses exist. They whip. They judge. And they want my fruit. Barry is slightly traumatized. Blaze thinks it's a game."
Blaze, my emotionally unstable bundle of vines, claws, and general chaos, stepped in front of me with all the grace of a battle-hardened, angry salad. His tail vines curled, blades at the end gleaming like kitchen knives in a cooking show gone wrong. His eyes were glassy and feral, locked on the floral horror across from us.
"Blaze…" I whispered, crawling backward and clutching my half-squished Scarafruit like it was a teddy bear. "We can run. You don't have to do this."
But of course, he did. Blaze didn't believe in running. Blaze believed in playful murder. He was built to attack, offensive plant. One of my first little soldiers. One slice, one kill.
He growled, a high-pitched screech that sounded like a cat sending a warning to back down and leapt into the air, spinning like a Garfield doing cannonball.
The Bloomdrake didn't flinch. Instead, it bloomed. I mean literally, its rosebud head split open into dozens of dagger-like petals that snapped forward like a Venus flytrap.
Blaze's claws met petals mid-air in a clash that looked like someone violently stirring a flower arrangement with blades. Petal shards flew. Vines cracked. Blaze shrieked and landed in front of me, one vine-tail torn but still grinning like a weed goblin.
"I don't know whether to be proud or call it plant therapy," I muttered.
The Bloomdrake hissed again and raised both thorn-whip arms.
I did the only reasonable thing a man in my situation could do.
I yelled, "BLAAAAAZE, USE…uh…FURY SPIN? SPINNY DEATH? I DON'T KNOW, YOU PICK!"
He seemed to like "Spinny Death." Because he did. Tail-blades twirled like helicopter rotors of doom as Blaze launched himself again, this time directly at the creature's vine-joints. One tail wrapped around a whip-arm. SNAP. Gone. Thorny chunks flew into the bushes.
The Bloomdrake staggered backward, one whip-arm flailing helplessly. It shrieked, now sounding less like elegant doom and more like a stepped-on wind chime.
"YES! BLAZE! RIP AND RUN!" I shouted.
Blaze didn't wait for a second cheer. He tore off the second whip-arm, gave the Bloomdrake a literal middle vine-finger, and zoomed back to me in a blur of bladed spin.
The Bloomdrake slumped with a sorrowful hiss.
I flopped onto the mossy floor and let out a wheeze. Barry floated down beside me, blinking nervously. Blaze was licking his claws like it was a regular Tuesday.
"I'm too old for this," I muttered. "I'm thirty."
If your pet plant has three blade tails and an ego, don't argue. Let him solve your flower-based assassination problems.
Blaze was busy flexing in front of Barry, clearly proud of his leafy murder spree. I, on the other hand, was still catching my breath while trying to peel off thorn fragments from my shirt. I swear, this planet hates cotton.
The Bloomdrake lay motionless, its thorny limbs twitching once before curling into a defeated "I give up" pose. I stared at the rosebud head that had tried to eat my face moments ago, now gently rolling toward my boot like it wanted to apologize.
"Nope, you're mine now," I muttered, grabbing it with the delicacy of someone collecting evidence for botanic crimes.
[Acquired Item: Bloomdrake Rosebud]
Honestly, I wasn't even sure what I'd do with a severed killer flower head, but Shiv once told me, "If it can murder you, it can probably serve you if you train it first."
Great. Another nightmare waiting to sprout.
With the danger passed, my stomach did what it always does after near-death experiences: threw a tantrum. I stared at the half-squished Scarafruit in my hand, bruised but still looking delicious—violet skin, slightly glowing, and now completely irresistible.
"Please don't kill me," I whispered to the fruit before biting into it.
And oh.
My knees buckled. I might've moaned.
I dropped onto a rock, chewing slowly while Blaze gave me the "Where's my cut?" glare.
I handed him another protein bar chocolate flavor, his favorite and he snatched it like a spoiled anime sidekick.
Barry bobbed approvingly beside me, glowing a soft green. Somewhere in his floating chlorophyll brain, I think he was proud.
Once the fruit was done, I leaned back, hands behind my head, and smiled at the orange sky. For the first time in what felt like days, I wasn't dying. I had food, loot, and a razor-happy plant cat.
[Shiv Message Incoming…]
"Congrats on not being mulch. Again. Maybe next time try not using your face as bait? Also, the Bloomdrake head might come in handy. Try planting it near Barry later."
I rolled my eyes.
"Thanks for the tip, O Smug One."
Then a second message pinged:
[And another message]
"You're progressing faster than expected. Keep growing your army. The Elementalist is already on the move. You'll need your next seed before sunset."
Great. No time to digest.
I grabbed my pack, checked my BotaWatch map, and continued heading to the plant I needed to have.