[Honey]

This thread will contain mature content.

The harsh sun could be felt bearing down on his back, shoulders blazing with the full extent of the sun's rays with nothing lying between them. A glance to the sky confirmed his assumption of no clouds in any direction of the sky's expanse, rain-filled or otherwise. He grunted a sound of disapproval as he looked down to the ground to see the meager beginnings of his crops, not even having been in the ground for a full month and were already beginning to wilt. The only thing that dared to grow in such harsh conditions were the thick weeds that grew through his clay filled soil as though it were as smooth as butter, and though every day he uprooted them they continued to return. He twist his rake between his hands, finding the well weathered to still be as worn as smooth as it had the day prior, and burying the dulled tines into the thick soil he began to pull the weeds from their temporary home.