"Plants are... accepting of death. To them, if they are eaten, it is a culmination of their usefulness. They may feel a brief regret, but if a rose dies because it is plucked for a bouquet, it delights in its use after death. A tree hopes to be useful as a book, the spines of their lives write with other's words. Or a house to shelter or a chair to hold." It was terribly romantic, she though. And one day, when she died, she secretly hoped someone would write their own story across her skin - she supposed someone could write across her while she lived. It was appealing.
MoonKitsune