This morning the eight violets were quiet in their chatterings.

"If only..." said Indigo.
"If only she would trust us," sighed Cobalt.
"But that is Taint. She is not one to trust easily." said Azure quietly.
"She might never," muttered Slate gloomily.
"I could feel her despise... She wished to eat us." said Navy.
And the violets looked at one another sadly.

But their heads flicked up when heard familiar hoofbeats, those of the Flower Fae. She pranced up and bowed to the violets, then lay down among them to speak. "Hullo, you all don't seem very happy today," she said, concerned.

"We crossed, Plumeria," said Magenta.
"We crossed to Taint's Forest." added Cobalt.
"It was so cold," muttered Slate.
"And we spoke with her," giggled Crocus.
"This is no time to be giggling," berated Indigo gently.
"She did not trust us at all!" cried Cobalt with anguish.

So Taint-like, thought Plume, and said, "Go on, what happened?" She was eager to hear any news of her love.
The violets told her all that had happened, and Plume sighed deeply, anguish in her heart. She asked hesitantly, "If you can cross... Can't I, somehow?"

The violets looked at each other, and thought for a moment before Azure spoke up.
"Not your whole self... We are too weak, to carry your body..."
"But perhaps..."
"Perhaps your voice can cross."
Plumeria's face brightened considerably. "Oh, at least the voice, that is better than nothing!" She smiled at them all, a bit of hope within her smile. "Call me when you know she is near, in her Forest. Then I will try to speak to her. Oh, thank you, sweet violets!" And with this, she trotted off, head held high.

"I am not sweet," muttered Slate.

~ ~ ~

There was a patch of eight violets. It lay in the shade, but still shimmered with iridescent blues and purples. They could not sway, they grew too low, but they lifted their leaves and trembled their petals as they spoke amongst themselves. Soft murmurs could be heard, blending into the pretty songs of the finches and deep sighs from the majestic pines and cedars.

"How wonderful this morn feels," said Magenta poetically.
"Full of life!" giggled Crocus.
"Yes," replied Cobalt.
"I agree!" cried Fuchsia.
"So fresh-" started Indigo,
"- and crisp." finished Navy.
"But oh, it is chilly," added Slate, shivering.

"The chill brings the sharp feeling of life, Slate," said wise old Azure.
And Slate sighed.
Then the violets' attention was brought to the sight of a lone doe, meandering about with a cheerful prance. Her pelt was of a dark blue with a white underbelly, and her gentle eyes twinkled out from the eyeholes of her ornate mask. Swirling antennae curled from the top of her head and she came towards the violets.

"Hullo, violets!" Plumeria cried, for that was her name, "Today'll be just beautiful! You can feel it in the air." She danced and hopped about.
"Don't you think it's chilly, though?" asked Slate cautiously.
"Oh, Slate," sighed Magenta.
"Oh no!" said Plume brightly. "Well, I don't mind it, to be sure! Though... Taint might," she added thoughtfully.
"She might-" said Indigo.
"- she might." muttered Navy.
"She might..." said Cobalt.
"But warmth can travel though the thickest of glass..." said wise old Azure.

"Old Azure's right!" giggled Crocus, and Fuchsia hollered "Yup!" while the other violets nodded in agreement.

Plumeria smiled at them all. "Aren't you all such sweet violets," she said kindly, and lighthearted once again, she bowed and skipped off.

The violets watched her go, falling silent.

At last Cobalt said quietly, "I do feel a bit sorry for her, the poor thing."
"With her love so far away..." sighed Magenta dramatically.
"Someday! Someday!" cried bright Fuchsia.
"Keep your hopes, my friends," said wise Azure gently.

"She called me sweet," muttered Slate, and the violets laughed, and the trees and birds laughed too.

~ ~ ~

There was a patch of eight red poppies. It lay beside the Weeper's figure, and was bright with sunlit colors. The poppies were swaying, and speaking amongst themselves. Soft murmurs could be heard, blending into the swish of leaves and trickling water.

"Have you heard?" said Crimson.
"Perhaps," said Rust.
"Of course, we hear everything," added Ochre disdainfully.
"Please continue, Crimson..." said Ruby melodically.

"It is of the two that visit us often," said Crimson.
"Ah, the poppy-bearer -" said Scarlet excitedly.
"And the Forest Wanderer." said Vermilion with a knowing smile.
"They always bow; aren't they polite?" whispered little Garnet.
And Blood, as usual, snorted.

"He is a special deer, he is." sang Ruby softly.
"The poppy-bearer can hear us, yes, and -" said Vermilion.
"Speak to us, too!" cried Scarlet.
"Shush, Scarlet, here he comes!" said Rust, and they quieted down, except for a snort from Blood.

The orange-pelted stag came forward, smiled, and said, "I heard you speak of me."
Caught, the poppies giggled amongst themselves.
"Of course we were," said vain Ochre, still proud.
"Your ears are so sharp, sir." said little Garnet shyly.
"Tell us! Tell us! Tell us of you and her!" cried Scarlet.
"Now, Scarlet," said Rust.

But Olive smiled at Scarlet and said to Rust, "It is all right, I am not ashamed. Yes, I love my wanderer dearly, and I miss her every moment I am without her."
"Ooooh," said the poppies, and Crimson nodded knowingly.
"Looove," sang Ruby.
"Hmph," snorted Blood.
The stag laughed gently and smiled at the poppies. He suddenly perked his ears, and his face lighted up. "I wish you good day, poppies, and don't gossip too much about others."

When he was gone, the poppies started up again.
"Gossiping!" said Ochre scornfully. "The silly thing. We were not gossiping."
"Now, Ochre," said Rust.
"But Crimson was right!" said Scarlet dramatically.
"I had been observing," said Crimson proudly.
"You are very talented at it," whispered little Garnet.
"To be observant is a welcome quality..." mumured Rust.
"But it can be easily confused with spying." added Vermilion suspiciously.
"Well, it didn't do any harm, though!" said Crimson cheerfully.
"It doesn't quite matter now..." hummed Ruby.
"Oh, look, I see them over there!" said Scarlet loudly.

The poppies fell silent, watching the two deer frolic about the pond's edge. They smiled and nodded at each other, the love between the two deer clear in every movement. The poppies swayed together with the wind, and hummed soft harmonies with the swish of leaves and trickling water.

"Hmph," snorted Blood.

~ ~ ~