
The leaves were starting to yellow ever so slightly. They needed more nitrogen in their feeding solution. Like people some plants were incredibly persistent survivors, and some were not. For a long time he had made it his life to try and protect the people that needed that extra hand to protect them from the harsh environment of the galaxy. Until, they just didn't want it any more. Now, he just did what he could, and grew plants to maybe make lives a little less gloomy.
His emerald eyes inspected every leaf like a lover's finger tips, gently exploring with tender care. His thick black hair fell around his head like messy crown as he leaned over the plants. They were his life. Every surface of the small shop was covered in plants or pots waiting to be planted. They myriad scents wafted on the air like dancers flowing across a stage teasing memories and senses to a music that's almost forgotten in the moment. It wasn't much but it was home.