"Of course I'm quite certain that my uncle's tentacula is the culprit," Ambrosia snapped, "he keeps the damn thing between two hydrangea plants, what else could it have been?" Honestly, she'd always been of a sort to remain relatively coherent in odd situations. After her mother's death, and then her father's...then losing Harper so suddenly, so violently, Ambrosia was sort of numb to shock.

With a hiss of pain, she tried to yank her arm loose from the healer's grasp suddenly, on instinct, before relaxing again. "Sorry," she breathed, turning her gaze downward. And then she swayed, resting her head against the nearest surface.

Bella Scrimgeour