Briar still remember his lessons. Still remembers what Rosethorn had taught him so long ago. Weeding still hurts, but he does it for the rest of his garden.
She would be proud if she were still around, watching him on hands and knees pulling out the small plants crowding around his own. He reached for one, and then pulled his hand back.
The golden head of the dandelion swayed with the breeze and he watched for a long moment before he went to his tool shed and carefully excavated it from its spot and gave it it’s very own place.
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