Thornton sat, carefully taking notes. Sick plants. He thought about the time his mother's roses had begun to wilt... what had it been about them? He bit his lip as he listened to his classmates' answers.

They all seemed to make sense, and so he jotted them down, doodling a leaf or two in the margins. He.. had some strange feeling that he'd been in the greenhouses recently, but wasn't exactly sure why. His stomach felt upset, like the memory was a bad one.

Swallowing hard and grimacing, he set down his quill. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he closed his eyes. Counting to 10, he opened his eyes. There. Stomach settled.

Raising his hand, he offered a thought. "My mum's roses got this black fungus on them once. So, things like spots or a different texture?"