Lone Star Mountain Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it

Arielle did like pretty things—most especially pretty flowers, and her sudden spike in interest was obvious in the brightening of her expression. Some of her nerves fell away, and she took a few steps forward, sniffing the air and taking in the nice floral scent of the pale woman's offering. 

She paused suddenly as the dark stranger moved closer, her interest in the flower as well. Arielle was not opposed to sharing, but she wasn't sure if she could trust either woman yet, and so she watched hesitantly for a few more moments before finally closing the rest of the distance. The dark wolf's question had her glancing over again, wanting to point out that there didn't need to be a reason for pretty flowers, but she was much too shy and polite and still a great deal uncertain about things to say what she was thinking. 

She lowered her muzzle and took a deep inhale of the flowers, delight brightening her face further. She looked up at the flower woman with a shy smile. What kind of flower is this? was her gentle question. She was self-conscious but interested enough to ask anyway.