the balance of the blue jay

What she said was so true. He'd never met anyone who liked flowers who was a bad person - in fact, the kindest wolves he'd met were healers. Aster's logic seemed perfectly valid to him. "F-friends," he agreed with a grin, his tail wagging in a wide arc behind him. "I-I really like marigolds. T-they're just so bright," he answered sheepishly. Almost as soon as he answered though he wondered if he'd said the wrong flower, but there were so many pretty ones he didn't think he could possibly go wrong.

He took a few strides closer, watching as Aster tapped the bud of an almost-flower with her wing. It did look a bit like a worm rather than a flower. "I-it's still kinda pretty. I mean, if you squint at it," he admitting, furrowing his brow and squinting hard up at the little bud. Everything was pretty in its own way, it was just a matter of perspective.