To Ivy's mind, Jubilee comes and goes as randomly as falling leaves – or a whirlwind, wreaking havoc in the brief moments she's nearby, with no more malicious intent than a kitten playing in a ball of wool but just as much chaos. She never expects it, even when the plants tell her Jubilee's nearby, because why would the girl even want to track her down? In fact Ivy's pretty certain Jubilee's not deliberately following her, just bouncing around at random. That the randomness happens to coincide with Ivy's own particular paths is nothing more than chance.
But she's there. Almost every day, there's something to do in the forest. Something interesting in the mess hall. Something by the lake, up in the sky, near the hospital, under that sign, hey Ivy, IVY, hi, Ivy, what's going on, what are you doing, and maybe Jubilee does this with everyone (although how she could manage that without cloning herself Ivy cannot imagine) but it seems like she's everywhere.
And in anyone else it would be annoying. Infuriating. Why Jubilee's different Ivy doesn't know. There's something about her that makes even the most constant prattling...kind of charming.
So when the girl turns up again, by coincidence, by magic, and finds Ivy planting a line of chrysanthemums in the sandy soil of one of the drier parts of camp, the plants sit happily instead of lashing out to destroy the intruder. Ivy hides a grin in her sigh. Jubilee will disappear again soon, like a puff of smoke vanishing with the wind. In the meantime -
“Hey! Ivy! Hi!”
“Jubilee,” Ivy says, and gives up, and rewards the girl with a smile.
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To Ivy's mind, Jubilee comes and goes as randomly as falling leaves – or a whirlwind, wreaking havoc in the brief moments she's nearby, with no more malicious intent than a kitten playing in a ball of wool but just as much chaos. She never expects it, even when the plants tell her Jubilee's nearby, because why would the girl even want to track her down? In fact Ivy's pretty certain Jubilee's not deliberately following her, just bouncing around at random. That the randomness happens to coincide with Ivy's own particular paths is nothing more than chance.
But she's there. Almost every day, there's something to do in the forest. Something interesting in the mess hall. Something by the lake, up in the sky, near the hospital, under that sign, hey Ivy, IVY, hi, Ivy, what's going on, what are you doing, and maybe Jubilee does this with everyone (although how she could manage that without cloning herself Ivy cannot imagine) but it seems like she's everywhere.
And in anyone else it would be annoying. Infuriating. Why Jubilee's different Ivy doesn't know. There's something about her that makes even the most constant prattling...kind of charming.
So when the girl turns up again, by coincidence, by magic, and finds Ivy planting a line of chrysanthemums in the sandy soil of one of the drier parts of camp, the plants sit happily instead of lashing out to destroy the intruder. Ivy hides a grin in her sigh. Jubilee will disappear again soon, like a puff of smoke vanishing with the wind. In the meantime -
“Hey! Ivy! Hi!”
“Jubilee,” Ivy says, and gives up, and rewards the girl with a smile.