Sun Mote Copse and all the greedy souls just don't care to know

Weejay didn't mind their shared quiet either. It might have seemed strange, but she almost felt like she was in a thought-river besides her father: that his and her thoughts were the currents flowing together, and the quiet was simply a peaceful lull between the troubles of the real world.

Her ears splayed as he nuzzled her, grinning wildly at his soft rebuttal. Oh, she could be as persistent as a weed if it so suited her. "Daddy!! You are just saying that because I am your little girl." Weejay's tone was playfully accusatory, her tail bobbing. "But, maybe we're both pretty flowers in a garden that are too pretty to pick up." She stood back and inspected her father, closing one eye and then the next as she did so. "You would make a very good sunflower! They start small but grow tall; they are always watching the sun, moving with the light -- and they look unassuming when budding, but are beautiful in bloom."