“The fire flower.” Sloan takes a step closer inspecting the plant. He’s about to reach out and touch one of the white spines, but I put a hand out to stop him.
“Bina said they’re poisonous, remember?” The red flower seems to taunt us, its beauty protected by the poisonous spines surrounding it.
He nods and pulls a small knife from the pocket of his cargo pants. I reach up carefully, gently pulling the red, silken petals out of the way, avoiding the spines that surround the plant.
“And what about you? What if you get pricked?” He asks as he tries to maneuver around the numerous poisonous spines to get to the plant itself, which is nestled around an intrusive cluster.
“Half-immortal,” I reason.
“Tsk. Half-mortal,” he corrects. “That’s the kind of thinking that will get you killed, Ka Waylon.”
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