[ Marita is enthralled by it's excitement and listens to it repeat the word in it's own language; she wonders if it's capable in learning the distinguished names between flowers. Situating herself, she heads over to the slightly barren forsythia plant where the buds of flowers have yet to bloom.
Leaning down to write in the snow once more, she spells the word 'forsythia'. ] They're called flowers, but each of them have distinguished names... [ She stands out, smoothing out her skirt, and motions to the large mangle of branches that will soon bloom once Luceti becomes warmer. ] These are forsythia.
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Leaning down to write in the snow once more, she spells the word 'forsythia'. ] They're called flowers, but each of them have distinguished names... [ She stands out, smoothing out her skirt, and motions to the large mangle of branches that will soon bloom once Luceti becomes warmer. ] These are forsythia.