Up.
Down.
She's grown. Though Aster tries to kiss my worries away, they are not nearly as effective as both of us wish they would be. Prissa tries to console me, a friend from the beginning of my human life, though it doesn't much help.
Another man has plucked her from her field and she is leaving to live elsewhere. Heather tells me it is normal, that her own children had moved away to live with the one they loved. They always returned for a visit, and I pleaded with my daughter the day of her moving to come back when she could. That I would miss her most.
Dahlia never breaks her promise, and she tells me this, exchanging a few of her petals for my own.