She trotted back into the greenhouse and stood in front of the free-standing mirror she used to angle light at certain plants, leaning in close with her mouth open. Her tongue and gums were pale, almost white, and the back of her throat was the same. She chewed her tongue experimentally. It felt normal, but opening her mouth again she saw not strings of saliva stretching out, but more nectar. She almost couldn’t taste it because her entire mouth and throat were coated - her taste buds had acclimatised.

“What’s happening to me?” she whispered, looking into her tawny irises and seeing the same lack of pink around the edges of her eyelids, where the tear ducts sat in the corners.