Herbert's Side Story 3
Pots used to be important in my home world, Verdantis.
They were used as status symbols and as a way to distinguish oneself. Some plants used them to accessorize themselves and show off their sense of fashion. Plus, they were useful when you needed to anchor yourself for a nap or soak in some sun.
But they're pretty damn noisy and useless when you're trying to escape.
I had come to help these people, well, not by choice, but that was not the point. And they had put me in prison. So, I did what any self-respecting, war-hardened, partially divine, extremely handsome shrub would do.
I escaped.
Late at night, with the Order guards snoozing and the candles flickering low, I enacted my escape. First, I slowly began shifting my roots, loosening the dirt packed around them. The cracked pot groaned under the pressure. With a final, satisfying crk, I heaved myself out, rolling over the rim and landing on the stool below with all the grace of a dropped cabbage.
