Spottacus followed them into the alcove. She sniffed. She had to admit, she never liked plants that much. She preferred zoology.

Still, some of them smelled nice. And some of the flowers were pretty.

She sat down by the wall and looked at her arm. Her wrist was already starting to swell, and was an angry red color. Clearly broken. Damn.

She looked up at sort-of-Scotty. "What's going on?"