Information

Flower has a minion!

Bloom the Peka Glade Tree Blub

Flower

The

Glade Blob
Owner:

Pureflower

Age: 2 years, 10 months, 2 weeks

Born: June 1st, 2021

Adopted: 2 years, 10 months, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: June 1st, 2021

Statistics

Level: 65
Strength: 151
Defense: 10
Speed: 10
Health: 10
HP: 10/10
Intelligence: 156
Books Read: 143
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Topiary Tender

FLOWER POWER

Spring

You are sluggish. More sluggish than those slugs nibbling the base leaves of your neighbors. Evolution has given you advantages over such pesky peasants. Even the dreaded caterpillar thinks twice before sampling your leaves.

You emerge teasingly from your protective white blanket, hesitant to reveal too much in case the killing frosts prove to be tricksters. Three of your sisters were blasted to blackened twigs by that clown, Old Man Winter.

As the days continue to bring more sun and the snow melts entirely, you grow bolder. You gain height and your first leaves fan out, fluttering a greeting to the strengthening sun. Every rain shower brings you that much closer to that loveable source of light and life.

Your buds are tiny, immature. You dare not announce your presence too boldly to those animal bandits starting to wake from hibernation.

You'll wait to put on your ballgown until all of the surrounding world is green.

Summer

You are the belle of the ball now and every living creature knows it.

Your golden blooms are the envy of the neighbors. Their simpler red, orange and violet gowns are impressive but nowhere near the spectacular display that you possess.

The sun moves from friend to foe as strengthening heat makes you wilt. Cool drinks of water are a blessing that never seems to come often enough at mid-summer. You've put down good roots, though. You are able to keep dancing when more delicate ladies hang up their slippers and shrivel back to thin stems.

Weeds are always trying to crash the party. You chuckle when a concerned gardener plucks them away from your base, leaving their roots lying in the sun to fry.

Those impostors should have known better than to try to stake a claim on your dance floor.

Autumn

Petals fall like teardrops. It's a necessary sacrifice, yet one that greatly reduces your glory. The queen reduced to commoner.

The rain turns cold, the night air nippy. A warning of the long sleep to come.

The gardener is back, tucking lovely mulch around your shivering roots, building up the pile until even your blackened flowers are nestled safely away from the ice to come.

You settle into your cozy shelter and slowly drift into dreamland.

Winter

You ignore the howling wind and swirling snow, dreaming in shades of green and waiting for the return of the sun.