>Suppose this is gonna be the place manned by the surly badger. Balance out the nice rat.
>Allons-y!
>But first, find some cover so we can change unmolested.
>You attempt to find somewhere out of the flow of traffic to change into your new purchases and divest this heavy cloak before walking to a
literal hothouse. You eventually settle for a short alleyway between a postal depot and a financier's office with a needlessly shiny downspout. Really, you'd like a proper mirror to be doing this, but after some fussing and poofing of your scarf, you're]reasonably sure the blight is concealed. You just appear to be making a dubious fashion statement instead. Well, you'll put up with it; you're too busy
literally dying to worry about embarrassment. You trek back to the greenhouse and walk inside.
>It actually takes a few minutes to flag someone down, between the sheer size of the greenhouse and all customers milling about within it. For just a moment when you enter, your mind returns to that other sea of flowers - so much more breathtaking and treacherous in its beauty. You can feel the smooth texture of the vines against your skin, their merciless grip around your throat. But only for a moment. Really, the greatest hazard
here is getting bored of waiting in line.
>Eventually you are approached by a brown-haired fairy holding a metal watering can nearly as large as she is.
>"How can I help you?" she practically shouts.
