After, the flowers pulled back, or perhaps seemed to from a certain stillness they assumed. Were they whispering to one another? A sense floated in that they had something to share in their own tongue, but there were no words to match, only the depths of their centers shifting and growing. For one instant out of all the rest, Summer almost could have sworn- in that, they all flushed a little pink .

::Yes! That sounds extra wonderful. People families are different, after all. You don't usually live in trees together.::

(To some note of "usually" following.)