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He led Gumdrop to what used to be an Inn, and settled him down in the stable there with some apples. Then he went to the small garden nearby to see how his little project was going. Maever felt a little flutter of excitement in his stomach, and as he stepped over the fallen fence towards the freshly dug gardens he figured that this was probably as good as it was ever going to get. Maever perched in a squat next to the moist soil and took a long look at the little green plants growing in four rows.
He called these the Queen's Crowns, because they reminded him of a crown. It was actually supposed to be an offshoot of Forkroot, because one day he had been most curious about different weaves and how they might impact on something like Forkroot. These weren't at all potent and had no impact on channelling ability (Maever had tried them himself). They just looked pretty. It would have been easy to pluck a few up and take them back to the Grey Tower but then other people would know about them, and they wouldn't be as special any more.
"Well hullo there little plants, you do be looking good today," he said to them as he gently prodded at one of the leaves. There hadn't been any real change in the last couple of weeks which suggested to Maever that this was probably all they were going to do. So now what was a fellow to do?
Smoke it, naturally. Maever wasn't a particularly hardcore pipe-user but he didn't mind it every now and again. He had a small stool he'd found in the Inn, that he plopped down near the soil and sat on - the feet dug into the ground a bit but otherwise held. Then he carefully began to snip at the leaves with a little pair of scissors he carried for just this purpose, humming to himself as he went. There were worse ways to spend an evening.