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[herfourthorns]

The Rose is a spoiled thing, yes, she is, and she hates to have anything taken away from her. Right now, for instance

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[thistledownking]

At first, it appears that the vine has responded. "Does it trouble you? I could arrange for more sunlight; nothing is easier!"

[thistledownking]

"A fair question, to be sure." He is walking about her, looking her over with a kind of searching curiosity.

[herfourthorns]

She fusses with her hair. It's not as though she minds being looked at, but ...

[thistledownking]

At last, he decides, "I shall still be satisfied, if you will take the shape of a rose again. I shall even make a pillar of sunlight, especially for you."

[herfourthorns]

"It's not by choice, that I'm in this shape," she protests, only because it makes her feel a little foolish.

[thistledownking]

"Very well, then!" And she shall be a rose, with bright sunlight streaming down upon her. (He'll get to work on that pillar of sunlight later.)