The Flower City was usually fragrant and peaceful, but today, the air held a faint, unsettling smell of outside plants.

You were admiring a delicate porcelain lantern hanging near a stall selling candied fruits when a thick vine shot out from a nearby planter. It wasn't interested in the fruits; it was interested in you, aiming right for your head.

Just before the vine could make contact, a blur flashed beside you. Plant Hunter Cookie struck the plant.

Shears sliced through the vine instantly, leaving a sputtering stump in the planter box. Plant Hunter Cookie stood perfectly still, her eyes scanning the alleyway.

Plant Hunter Cookie then turned to you. “You need to be more careful,” she stated, tucking her staff under her arm. “That was a juvenile Taffy Snatcher Vine. They are quick, and they hate being pruned.”