[b]Her hands meet yours as she closes them around the stem of the flower.[/b] I'm almost surprised how little you remember your previous master. Even through indoctrinating you, you retain a poor grasp on who she was. But I digress. A flower so bold and bright as the one you hold is but a dot on the canvas of a larger painting, and yet it yearns to be marveled at. But what does it do when it has gained that attention it so rightly deserves? [b]The sensational aroma from the flower pours into the fresh air as the bulb in its center grows larger than the falling pedals it once held.[/b] Does it bask in it's glory until the time it miscalculates its next step towards growing ever larger? [b]A blistering prick can be felt as jagged thorns emerge from the flawless stem of a ticking time bomb. She rises and scuttles toward you.[/b] Does it reject it's fame by lashing out on it's peers? [b]She pokes the enflamed bulb with a small needle, colored the same blue as her hair. the plant wilts in your hand, diffused.[/b] No matter the method, the end result is the same: It either bursts with emotion, or is quelled by a superior. So ask me again how you can help me, instead of lying to yourself on the matter of who holds higher authority...