[Alorah knew next to nothing about Inigo; that moment where his smile faded away was an utter mystery to her, and one she didn't bother to make baseless guesses about. For all she knew, he was just trying to think of a tactful response to someone saying they liked weeds.

Whatever it was, it was a nice little ray of cheer to know someone else liked those modest little flowers. The idea of picking a bouquet was a little uncomfortable to someone who was more or less a dandelion herself, but she couldn't possibly make Inigo feel bad for that. He was just offering to share something that made her happy, after all, and it wasn't like there were any obvious giveaways that he was talking to a sentient cottonweed creature.]

You're a very sweet person, Inigo. You don't need to do anything like that for me, though. If you'd like, then maybe... wouldn't it be more fun to wait until they turn white? We could scatter their seeds and make wishes.

[Scattering seeds, after all, was the greatest fulfillment she could think of. Much better than being plucked while still yellow. That would give them something they could do together, too, and Alorah liked that thought more than being on the nonreciprocating receiving end of attention.]

Oh... if you're still here by the time they sprout their fluff, that is.