Give me something completely “out of character” for my muse and I’ll tell you what feasible situation they would have to be in to do it.
He half smirked down at the small white rose, it hadn’t even bloomed yet, but perhaps that added to the symbology. Turning his head only a few degrees and glanced to the right hearing the hollow echo of plated boots against the keeps stone-paved floor. “Ah.” Was the only noise he made but it drew the young paladin’s attention to him as he turned to face her. With another grunt he extended the long-stemmed rose for her to take.
Though she took it from him and glanced at it for a moment she asked, “What is this Mosur?”
“It is fresh, clean, unblemished rose Maewood. Somehow, we have made it.”
He watched her gaze fall to the flower once more and the shadow of a smile pull at the corner of her hardened features.
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