>>17989540Peeved by all the giving and giving and giving and receiving nothing but backlash in return, the Herbicicide draws itself forcefully retreating to a lonely, extremely claustrophobic cave. In an effort to spare some space, it begins to construct a cavern using the remainder of all its mettle to do it.
A cavern which grows to the size of an enormous sinkhole underneath the city. Too nice to let the city collapse in itself, the Herbicicde embarks on a thousand year struggle to keep it afloat by holding it up with its thick vines.
And it's here that another thing is born out of peeving by the beast. The Herbicicide decides that, in the likely case that all of its herbs disappear completely, that at least /one/ remain that can do everything the others can--and more.
A flower, the Wallflower. A flower so powerful and radiant that its aura surges through its vines and supports the city and all of its residents with a mysterious gift--the gift of immortality.
All is /okay/ as the Herbicicide adjusts to life without friends and barely any visitors underneath the city, where the children remain unknown of its existence due to worry of their easily-sculpted monster fright. Adults only pay it with contempt, and only visit to ensure that it is in tip-top shape, and that the seasonal herb harvest is fruitful.
Then, it draws a crow wretch entering its underground domain, and stealing away the flower for her own intentions. With it, the town's immortality is thrown into disarray, causing a rampage.
The Herbicicide struggles to draw itself piercing its vines through the cave ceiling and tearing the old town apart in a heartbroken outrage. This anger is eventually quelled, but never truly forgotten, as a hole is left in the Herbicicide's heart.
A broken heart means less herbs.
