It was the amusing matter that was the slightest bit of unoriginality that brought Siru here in the first place. A small batch of peonies was grasped between her jaws, tight enough to ensure they would not fall, yet loose enough to avoid damaging the stems. Muted eyes pointed down towards the red blossoms with an expression of uncertainty.

...would this truly be a good idea...? Siru huffed, trotting over the greenery, tail held low with anxiety laced across her visage. She held her head low and pressed through the undergrowth towards the meadows just beyond them.

There he was; the Maiden froze, brows raised, ears pressed back. She'd expected him to be mingling with others, not... picking flowers?

Siru did not speak, instead standing still as stone with eyes flitting awkwardly to and fro. She hadn't even properly cleaned her coat yet, Gods—she looked a mess, green smeared along the soles of her paws, bits of grass strewn across her slight frame. Rhadamanthus couldn't see her like this. A frantic look appeared in her eyes for but a moment, as she contemplated scrambling back into the woodlands.

It was surely too late for that. Siru felt her pulse beat against her throat, heat gathering against the skin of her face. This was surely a bad idea... shakily, she stepped forward. Her tail coiled against her hind limbs as she quietly cleared her throat. Rhadamanthus...?