They were giving him the ivy. They're giving me the Hedera algeriensis, his mind supplied, and they don't even really know me. The thought registered as incredible; to be offered a gift of preference by complete strangers was beyond his capacity to swallow. Nigredo practically gawked at the plant, unable to produce a single audible word.

Finally, his face flushed a bright pink, and he reached for the plant with two awkward hands. "Thank you," he gave meekly, eyes fixed on the bright leaves. "I'll take good care of it."

And unlike most declarations to those unfamiliar, Nigredo meant this one to its very core. He had, after all, a fondness for plants.