shelter from the sun

"L-u-ook?" So saying, the Prince stared expectantly if not skeptically, at the rose. And of course, nothing happened. Glancing up, or rather, sliding eye-stalks and wet wobbly eyes upwards, the Prince winced the way a bowl of jello might, recoiling with worry and anguish. "Nn-o!" It bellowed unhappily, its voice wavering and cracking and slurping all at once.  "N-n-n-o h--hh-have—" Suddenly violently ill, which was to say completely regular for the Prince, bile shot from its many open orifices and wounds, sending it scuttling backwards a few feet and covering as many of its eyes as it could with gangly webbed hands. "not have naAAAme!" Which they obviously knew and were just here to make fun of it, like everyone else. "G--g-g-o awaAAAy!"