You discuss the situation with your mandrake's singing teacher. She has no suggestions. You consult what passes for doctors in Spite. None of them know very much about mandrakes. You ask a gardener from one of the parks […]
It's a root, after all. You uprooted it from the swamp. It must need soil to sleep in. But it seems dissatisfied with the thin stony soil you scoop from the local park. It must want marsh-mud. […] you should go back to the marshes where you found it.
