The distinct smell of spring hangs heavy in the air as Lupe walks through the local park. To celebrate the transition of winter into the spring, they decided to go out on a stroll, making sure to visit some of the spots they tend to skip out on, in search of exploration and chasing wanderlust.

Dewdrops and a low mist still hang over the grass in the fields, and they take the time to truly enjoy the walk. It doesn’t take long for Lupe to get lost, failing to track what path they instinctively follow, their paws guiding them nearly automatically, simply allowing themselves to subconsciously wander through the park.

It doesn’t take long for them to stumble upon a part of the park they think they recognize from the usual path they take, however, curiosity strikes the fox dog as Lupe looks at a trail sign at the end of the path. It’s pointing in either direction for the continuation of the trail, however, behind it is a a large open patch.

Lupe gets closer to the trail sign, absolutely convinced that the open area is new. They come here often enough that they would notice such a massive change happening in real time, let alone it changing so suddenly. They look around for signs of construction or heavy duty machinery that could’ve flattened such a path of forest in such a short time, to no avail.

Curiosity gets the best of them as they leave the path, instead opting to approach the open field at the end of the trail. They pass by the marker, stepping over some bush and twigs, the dew sticking to their tails as they stray further off the beaten path.

The field is weirdly symmetrical and circular, almost unnaturally so. The grass edge cuts trees in half, forming a perfect O, and as Lupe traces the edges of the circle, they notice that the open field seems aged in a way. The grass has grown rather high in certain places, to the point that this field [i]must[/i] have been here for quite some time at least.

However, the most interesting thing of the entire open valley isn’t the grass nor its age, nor the mystery of its appearance. No, the most interesting thing had patiently awaited Lupe’s arrival the moment they stepped inside the sacred valley. There, in the very middle of the circle – as if purposefully placed to be found – is a singular orchid.

The orchid, shimmering with white, pinks and purples, seems to be calling to Lupe. Excited about this discovery, the fox dog approaches the orchid, albeit with an odd instinctual hesitance. Something in the back of their mind is telling them to beware, however, they drown out the voice with their genuine interest and draw closer.

As they get near the orchid, they kneel down and allow their handpaw to drift to a single petal of the orchid. The flower immediately seems to react to their touch, spewing out a singular cloud of golden yellow powder, fluttering down to the ground the moment the flower has spat it out, and landing on the floor and on their fur.

Lupe is fascinated by this reaction, and they move their touch to another petal. Again, the orchid reacts by spewing a new cloud of pollen into the air, weakly fighting against the wind that’s circling in the open field, unguarded by the usual canopy and trunks of the trees that should be there.

Though they don’t quite know why, everything in Lupe’s body is telling them to pluck the flower, to bring it back home and study it there. It’s such a gorgeously unique specimen, they couldn’t leave it behind like this, right? It would be a shame if someone trampled it, or if a hungry critter came along and destroyed it. No, the fox dog [i]should[/i] protect the orchid.

So, again without any real consideration or thought, Lupe bends down once more, their paw drifting back to the orchid – this time, however, not towards a petal, but to the stem. This immediately triggers a more powerful response of the flower, one that Lupe wasn’t quite prepared for. Before they even realise what’s happened, they’re blasted with a cloud of pollen, straight to the face.

Lupe’s first instinct is to cough, to wipe away the yellow pollen and gasp for fresh air. But their second instinct overpowers that need, and instead it calms them down and tells them to simply observe and process what’s actually happening. Whether it’s their own instinct or something alien, they can’t tell, but it’s still stronger than the need for fresh air.

Immediately, Lupe’s nostrils are coated with a nostalgic sweetness. Something that they smelled before, definitely. It has something summery, fruity even. But not overly sweet. It’s right on that border of a recognizable perfume and freshly cut produce. But beside sweetness and nostalgia, there’s a distinct freshness.

The scent of the sea breeze, but somehow without the salty connotations. The smell of a beach walk, kicked up sand, but without the sand actually getting in your fur. The smell of pine trees and ripe blueberries begging to be plucked. Petrichor, coffee, fresh baked bread. All scents combined into one, and not overpowering, but rather comfortable. Safe.

Lupe lets go of the flower as their mind tries to focus on one of the scents at the same time, but instead, the constant flow of information supplied by the pollen makes it tough to actually focus. So rather than focusing on the dominant smells, Lupe instead allows their mind to wander. They’ve long let go of the orchid’s stem, and instead find themselves leaning backwards, supporting their body with their handpaws in the wet grass.

As they sit there, an undeniable sleepiness overcomes them. Their eyelids begin to fight their body in an attempt to close and shut down, and Lupe hardly puts up that fight, instead allowing themselves to surrender to the warm, cozy drowsiness. They yawn loudly and widely, allowing the fresh air they so craved to enter their lungs finally, now that they can no longer disturb the constant influx of smells.

With closed eyes, it’s almost as if the orchid speaks to them. Not in language, but in primal communication. No words are needed to convey the wants and desires of the flower. It needs to be taken care of. It needs to be taken care of by [i]Lupe.[/i]

Almost unwillingly, Lupe stands up again and finds themselves wandering away from the orchid. Not because they want to leave, but because it’s the right thing to do. After all, the orchid is desperately in need of a caretaker. One to feed it mulch, one to water it when it’s thirsty, one to guard it from the outside world and its countless dangers.

So, Lupe finds themselves almost sleepwalking back home, but they’re still content. They know that they won’t be seperated from the orchid for very long. And they know that the orchid won’t be along for much longer either.

