Zentaya knelt and silently indulged her senses.
The chirps and squeaks of the denizens of this woodland wove a symphony paying homage to life. Inhaling the heady scents of the leaf mold and of the alien foliage, she admired the counterpoint of nature's endless cycle of growth and decay.
She knew she would never forget the tart sweetness of the exotic berries nor the icy cleanliness of the water she had drunk afterwards.
Focusing on the samples she had harvested, she coaxed them to grow. Tendrils embraced her skin and she smiled, imagining how they would rejuvenate her dying homeworld.