Persephone is coaxing up the rose briars, slightly interested in using the thorns to pluck at the crystals. She'd have to bring it with her to each one but it's not that much of a hardship. The alarm sends her off balance, the crouch slipping into a seat flat on her behind.
"It most certainly is. Um--Look at it, let's see what's going on. Which vine did you touch?"
no subject
"It most certainly is. Um--Look at it, let's see what's going on. Which vine did you touch?"