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Resource
StackableConsumable
A cluster of pale blue bells nodding on a single thin stem, the petals so light that the shape is mostly suggestion. Found in shaded groves where the moss has been left alone.
Entry
Chronicle
Protected under the old forest compacts, which means nobody picks them without first apologizing to whoever is listening. The flower closes at dusk and reopens at first light, a habit that kitchen gardeners have tried to exploit for clock-making with universally disappointing results. Pressed between the pages of a heavy book, the petals dry to a color exactly matching bruises.