Wapun Meadow Honey, You're Familiar like my Mirror Years Ago

A wistful look crossed his face and Vale sounded her agreement to his statement with a gentle hum. Her gaze drifts to the flowering field, preserving the moment's quiet. Moss's words were as bitter as they were sweet, stirring up an old melancholy from within her bones. This she did not voice. Sensing that, perhaps, they carried a sadness of their own.

Her ears piqued as Moss presented her with the little golden bloom. A wag of her tail against the grassy knoll they settled upon.

Oh! Thank you! She gently took the flower from him, weaving the stalk between her paws. She scrutinized the color, curious on how Moss perceived her eyes. It wasn't like she had an easy time looking at them. She broke her attention from the flower to her companion. It's not quite a fair game you presented. I'm not sure I'd find a flower to match your's.

Her eyes leveled out to the field. Green grass. Green flower buds. Green leaves. But flowers? None that she could see.