"Oh!" Mericlou exclaimed, and winced at the memory. The petals of the tiny plant's flowers were a beautiful fushia and lavender, and it made a charming addition to the miniature gardens that she had built around the apartment's windowsills. Unfortunately, it grew so quickly that Skori suggested donating it to a plant sanctuary. She agreed, but when they tried to remove it, the flowers -now one-quarter the size of a grown man- unexpectedly attacked. And in the aftermath of the struggle -and subsequent burning of the plant in the outside atrium, the family found itself set back by about a month's worth of profits. The money covered repairs on her right arm, Skori's lower left leg, part of Alaema's right breast, and then the carpet, after the plant found the plastics of their synthetic flesh to be indigestible. Later on, Sedriil had discovered that the plant was a lethal man-eating species, often mistaken in its juvenile stage to be benign, and was highly illegal under Republic law. Mericlou was at least grateful that the combined costs from Noroa's blunder did not include jail bonds. Fortunately, none of Noroa's other gifts proved to be so dangerous or costly, and she was genuinely sorry when she heard about the incident.
Almost as if having shared her memories, Noroa blanched to an actual white as she recalled the incident, realizing that it was probably not such a good example to have brought up. Mericlou assured her that it at least was the most exciting gift she had ever received, and they both shared a good laugh.
"Here we go," Garen said, returning from the kitchen. In his arms he held a large red package, tied up neatly with a blue ribbon, with six holes cut into the top.
"Happy birthday, Meri," he and Noroa said in unison, as Garen handed the package to her.
It was light, Mericlou discovered as she accepted it. She had been about to shake it, when Noroa quickly stopped her, her eyes wide in alarm. "Oh, don't do that!" She exclaimed, stopping her, and exhaling in relief afterwards. "You should open it now; I don't think she'll wait for much longer."
"What do you mean by …?" Mericlou began, but had her question answered when she heard a small scratching noise coming from inside the package.
She heard Noroa and Garen laughing quietly in the background as she set it down upon the coffee table. She proceeded to tear off the wrapping paper, and then slowly removed the lid from the wooden box inside.
A tiny, long, white, furry … something … skittered out, up her left arm, and then clung to the denim of her jacket. Mericlou jumped back with a gasp, ready to throw off whatever it was that was that had attached itself onto her shoulder. But Noroa had grabbed her hand before she could do it. "Wait, Meri! She's not going to hurt you," she said. "Look."