Wapun Meadow Warmth

His ears flattened against his head bashfully, tail flicking back and forth. Thank you, he murmured, still searching the ground, rather particularly, now. Only the prettiest. A high standard, yes, but one he felt he owed. In the distance, a skinny, tall flower: a forget-me-not. Quickly, he padded forwards, bending down to pluck it's stem and turning towards Milan, eyes wide, bright.

He clamped it gently between his teeth, slowly returning to the woman. For a moment, he gazed briefly into her eyes, the hues similar to the floral plant he held in his maw. Frederick leaned forwards, carefully tucking the flower within the crevice of her crown and her ear, gently working it into her fur. There, he smiled, stepping back to admire. Perfect. It's a forget-me-not, and in a moment of quick-wittedness, he added: A testament to how I'll remember you. Accompanied with a charming smile.