PoD ch 3

To be honest... Diligence isn’t really Rubel’s forte. Anything that is considered consistent and hardworking, really.

First, they’re a sloth bun. Not to prey on stereotypes, but Rubel themself knew that their vice must count for why they can barely stay awake longer than others. They can’t keep up any hobby for more than a week, and even then they lose interest in anything quickly. Why did they think taking up tasks at the Heavenly Embassy seemed like a good idea?

Second, what makes it look like they have a chance at having a green thumb. They’re a pink bun, very hot pink bun at that. No green in sight; their whole being is a contrasting color, even. Why would anything bloom and grow underneath their care?

The first week of planting did seem simple enough. Toss some seeds in a few holes, pat some dirt until flat, and then call it a day. Then the second week of delivering some tea leaves to their neighbor Dove... causes more disasters than expected.

It was supposed to be a quick delivery trip. How was Rubel supposed to know a feeble rock wanted to ruin their whole day? How were they supposed to avoid tripping over it, spilling all of their hard-working effort in the form of tea leaves all over the burrowgatory dirt road, only for lovely Dove to witness the embarrassment and end up nursing them for a scratched-up knee?

The third week comes and once again Rubel is at the Gardens of Virtues to meet Dove for their occasional plant-tending check-in. The hot pink bun stares down at the wilted flower, watering can in hand. The flower doesn’t stare back, rather its leaves are mushy and petals droopy. 

Rubel stares at the limp plant, distraught. This was maybe Rubel’s third day of watering shift, and the flowers looked worse for wear.

It was supposed to be a simple task; all flowers needed are just sun and water, right?

Why is it so... ugly?

And as gentle as their tired heart is, Rubel places the watering can to the side and bursts into tears.

“Rubel! What’s wrong?” The greenhouse doors burst open and Dove rushes over to the whimpering sloth bun, a hand-woven basket in hand. They stop short of Rubel, their eyes glancing at the scene unfolded in front of them.

“I don’t think the flowers like me..!” Rubel cries, their own sopping mess adding more to the sopping mess that is beneath their hooves. The sad excuse of a flower swims in the puddle, the dirt barely soaking up any of the water. The leafy arm floats above the surface, like a final cry for help on a sinking ship.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” The white bun places their basket down and procures a handkerchief. They start dabbing up the excess water drowning the flower while murmuring small apologies. After tossing the soaked piece of fabric aside, Dove reaches over to rub Rubel on the back, their gentle, kind touch causing Rubel’s sniffles to stutter. They hum a little tune that Rubel doesn’t seem to recognize, but nonetheless it begins to soothe their hiccups. “Why don’t we take a break and assess what happened?” 

Hoof-in-hoof, the white bun drags over the picnic basket and pulls out a worn out, well-loved quilted blanket for both buns to sit on. Rubel does just that and sits down in a gloomy hutch, hands brushing through their fluffy ears in search of comfort. Once settled, Dove then pulls out a tumbler and pours out a steaming liquid into the cap that acts like a cup.

Rubel recognized the bits and pieces of leaf that float to the top of the liquid; it’s the same tea blend they delivered to Dove the week prior. The one Rubel clearly remembers spilling across the dirt road in shame.

“You’re still drinking that?” Rubel holds the lid-cup close to their body, the liquid still too piping hot but the warmth beneath their hooves makes their heart swell. “You don’t have to drink it…I don’t even know how to choose leaves and I bet there are better teas out there, and--"

“--Shh..” Dove hushes Rubel so softly, with a hoof raised in front of their face in a way Rubel can’t seem to get another rambling word in. “It isn’t about who’s tea is better, but enjoying the gifts a friend worked hard to make and deliver.” They pull out another spare cup and pour their own serving.

With the moment of silence floating between them, Rubel reluctantly takes a sip of their tea and... it’s as bland and tasteless as expected. They frown into their cup, disappointment, but then they glance at Dove’s tranquil expression as they take their own sip. Dove’s eyes find Rubel and they send a gentle smile back. The sloth bun feels their cheeks warm up and takes another sip to hide the fact they were staring.

“Taking care of flowers requires a lot of care and practice, just like making tea leaves,” the white bun begins, lifting the nearby droopy flower up with a hoof, “The concept may seem easy at first, but these flowers do rely a lot on us to be patient with them too! Such small things..."

“I think you have the right idea about watering them, but let’s take it one day at a time... You want to take care of them and see them grow big,” Dove motions to the nearby flower bushes, “right?” 

Rubel nods slowly, though a flash of shame washes over them at the current state of the flower beds. 

Dove tilts their head to the side thoughtfully, halo upon their head following suit, “They might just need a few days of rest before they get thirsty again.”

“Why don’t we check on them in a few days together, okay? I’ll come get you, so don’t worry!” Dove places their now-empty cup to the side and leans in for a reassuring hug despite Rubel’s unsure gestures. Rubel awkwardly ends up settling their arms around the other, a light squeeze of assurance.

“Okay...” With their own cup of tea empty, Rubel pats down the nonexistent dust from their furry legs. A sigh. Another week, and maybe, Rubel will be able to see the flowers bloom...