She had been as special once. Nothing like those inbred dandelions that went a-spawning every time the wind picked up. Unlike them, she had never been considered a weed. She had never been thought of as some blight upon the living, breathing landscape of blooms, something to be removed or sheared down to the roots to make way for other more important vines.

She was the important vine.

There was a time she had considered herself to be perfect. Miraculous even, maybe even more so than Mother Nature's two legged children. Where as Human's clumsy beginnings began in stumbles, Hana's start had grown in leaps and bounds as quickly and easily as her beautiful dark-blue petals. All she had to do was stretch out her leaves to graze the soft, sweet streams of sunlight that flowed down around her like rain. Essentially, the world during her infancy had been simple: eat, sleep, eat, and sleep again.

Rinse and repeat. Simplicity in it's simplest form.

Then the fragrance of the hills changed. Overnight, the wind grew rank and foul with the smell of rot and decay leaking down from every mountain and orchard Hana had once called neighbor and friend. Something was wrong, and while Hana couldn't quite understand it, she could certainly feel it.

The growth of pain, loss, and despair mingled with the waning strands of hope that hobbled along side them. It was all there, swirling in the air like curls of shredded ribbon, each scent an emotion, a word in the all but invisible language of nature.

And Nature was screaming.

Life was wounded, limping, trying to stay out of the way of a much larger predator that had moved in without warning. And Hana, like many others, was bleeding but still breathing. Even if it was only barely.

By the time the end found it's way around to her, Hana was more than ready for it. She didn't scream, not like the rest of nature did. Briefly, she tried to remember what the sun had felt like, traveling along the sensitive surfaces of her fragile fronds. A memory, a faint glowing recollection of light, was all she was able to muster. Slowly, her petals folded up and her leaves curled in. The glucose in her veins dragged to a crawling flow, went still, and eventually solid.

Just like that, the world wasn't so simple anymore.