Colorful leaves hung down from their branches sadly, dearly missing the touch of the wind sneaking around their bodies. Even the flowers bloomed differently; their colors were not as bright, their scents could not reach far out... They smelled nostalgia.
Without the natural rustling of the leaves with the wind, without a mix of scents of all plants, it felt like the nature shared Zero's loneliness in this place among this crowd.
Taken from their home to live in an unnatural way, separated from their roots, separated from their nature, they were just like him. Alive still, but it was just not enough.
He toasted to the withering yellow flower directly in front of his chair, then took a sip from his glass of whiskey. A small bird with its red beak skipped on his table, approached his finger to nibble on it, which kept him entertained for a while.
He tried hard to shift his attention on to the kusarian woman, approaching closer to the busy man at the barstool he was also supposed to speak to.
