Nova Peak unkundig

Marigold, a word she had used a number of times, favoring the pretty little flower though not noticing her father's pain behind it nor knowing why there would be any. 

She beams, a large smile upon her creamy lips and her tail goes wild to her father's praise. The meadows, right? She had thought they thrived in the open fields where they could soak up the sunlight and collect its brilliant color. 

She would nose along the backside of her father's elbow. Taking note of his pain, she would not rush forth hurriedly and kept at his side.