Soleil
I wanna be a word you say at night
I wanna be a feeling you know you can't fight
Stifled is not silent, and Soleil preens dramatically at her success, smile a beaming streak of white across her face. She hopes the streak of victory will continue symbolically into their harvesting efforts, because that smile dwindles - though it never dies - as they focus in on their chosen specimen. It's unnerving to be around even without stepping into its radius of effect. Gods but Soleil thinks they're creepy. I wanna be a feeling you know you can't fight
Snapping to attention readily - heels clicking and everything - Soleil nods energetically in a cloud of dark curls and thrusts the jar out as far as her arms can reach. Holding as still as she possibly can (though she doubts Deimos needs her to) Soleil watches as he lifts one of the daisies into the air without so much as twitching an eye. Yeah, she definitely doesn't need to do much. Hah!
"A little further my way," she instructs anyway as she holds the jar out, eyeing the lip of the top so that it can go in easily without crushing or cutting any of the roots she can see poking out of the clod of soil attached to the bottom.
