FFM3: Pollen Counts
Docerus grumbled, shoving bricks of sod down in an organized manner, trying to erase signs of chases and mild chaos. The party had left. He had chased hobgoblins back to the external exit of the basement, and locked them in. Then, for spite, he had buried the door in various flower pots.
The Dendrobium had burped bubbles in Docerus' face for his trouble. He grumbled. Plants were the worst.
The Lady of the house had reversed the various summons performed by the young Lady of the house. There were no traces left, aside from battered grass starters and tuffs of fur where it shouldn't be. She had taken Alyves for medical attention, as he'd sported a very solid set of bite marks.
Leaving Docerus, her loyal grounds keeper, to clean up the rest of the nightmare. The centaur grumbled, going about his tasks. He could see the young charge still working to place scrap bricks around the tiny shed set aside for his use. He frowned.
There was a ditch. Docerus was very certain that there was no such thing the night before. He would need to fill it again, but not until the young charge had retired. While the werewolf was a prime age among his people, his affliction caused him to operate like the average six year old, and the Lady had requested that he was not to be upset.
Even if that put the grounds keeper out, having to fix the dents in the yard over and over again. If only there was something he could do to prevent it from happening over and over again.
Damon shoved a broken daisy into his pile of mud, and nodded with satisfaction.
Docerus' eyes narrowed on the flower, and he began to formulate a plan.
It was not until after lunch that Damon noticed anything amise. He had returned from the kitchens with a spoon, intending to relocate several very pretty flowers, probably from the front gardens. Then his new shed would be a very pretty place on the outside, Damon decided.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Flowers, many of them spewing bubbles or glitter or confetti, surrounded his shed. Damon grinned widely, his earlier ideas forgotten as he approached the sunflowers and asked how they knew where the sun was. The only responses he got involved a face full of glitter. He laughed excitedly.
Docerus brushed his hands against his apron, moving sod bricks back to where they belonged. He was terribly behind.
FFM3, 2018 Can be found here: https://www.deviantart.com/toxic--sunrise/art/FFM3-Pollen-Counts-753590520
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